


A Wish for a Star

by stormysgambit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Oikawa Tooru, Fallen Star AU, Fallen star Oikawa Tooru, M/M, Major Character Injury, Roommates, Roommates to lovers, Slow Burn, There may be angst, University Student Iwaizumi Hajime, University Student Oikawa Tooru, hajime is an idiot but he's trying his best, i can't believe i forgot this one but, idiots to lovers, star magic is a thing and i am making up the rules as i go, there is definitely lots of pining, tooru will suffer a lot and for that i am sorry, we will probably call it angst, when i say slow burn i mean slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormysgambit/pseuds/stormysgambit
Summary: Hajime Iwaizumi is a university student and Tooru is the star he used to wish on when he was younger
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 42
Kudos: 49





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, a big thank you to simokitten and Spaceprincessem (whose knowledge of Haikyuu is basically me screaming at her about these two and yet she agreed to do this anyways because she loves me and I have no idea why) for agreeing to beta for me. 
> 
> Thank you also to Isy, Angela, and Stitches for listening to/helping me hash out ideas when I decided that I was in fact going to make this a thing

Humans look up at the stars all the time. Sometimes they choose a star and wish on it, hoping for good things to happen to them. The stars that get wished upon the most tend to be the ones that are the brightest and most visible.

In an unnamed constellation, there was a star. In terms of the age of stars, he was relatively young. The star shone brightly, but there were other stars that shone more brightly than him. The star was fairly well liked by the other stars in the constellation, though there were still those that looked down on him.

Every day, the star watched and waited as the other brighter stars received several wishes. In human years, it had been a long time since anyone had wished on the star. To a star this was little more than the blink of an eye, but to the star, it felt like an eternity. He would watch the other stars bustling through the winding streets of the constellation, rushing to do everything they could to fulfill their various wishes while harboring a growing feeling of emptiness in his heart.

There had been a period of time, for a handful of years, when the star received a fairly steady influx of wishes. Before these wishes had been made, time was much the same as it was now, nothingness. But then one day, the star received his first wish. He glowed more brightly for a brief moment, and his heart was filled with a warm fuzzy feeling, like a soft internal glow. Finally, there was someone out there who needed him. The wish was a small one, and yet, to the star, it was so much more than that. The star had finally received a sign that he had a purpose. Not wanting to forget, the star wrote the wish, along with the date in a small notebook. It was made by a young boy who wanted nothing more than to make a friend. Smiling to himself, the star headed off to try his best to set the wish fulfillment in motion.

After that first wish, the star began to regularly receive wishes. Each time he was presented with a new wish, his heart got that same fuzzy feeling, making him feel more alive than before. The star could tell from this feeling that all the wishes came from the same boy, the one who had wished on him the first time. A wish is like a small extension of the wisher’s heart and so there is a unique signature feeling that comes with each one. Meaning a star was able to identify who had made a wish by feel. The star only knew this from what the other stars had told him though, for even though the boy wished upon him unwaveringly, no one else did. The other more popular stars said that after a while, there got to be so many wishers and wishes that you were unable to distinguish exactly which wish belonged to who, and each wish became nothing more than a number, another task as you went about your day. Though he never said it, to the star, this seemed awfully lonely and impersonal. He liked the connection he felt to his wisher.

From the wishes, the star could tell that the boy was confident and reliable, a genuinely good person. The star felt these things, but there was also an undeniable strength, combined with a feeling of safety and comfort. It made the star feel like nothing bad would ever happen to him. To the star’s heart, it felt like finally being reconnected with a piece of him that had been missing, making him complete. It felt like home.

For a period of about ten years, the star worked his hardest to fulfill every wish that he received from the boy. Each and every one of these wishes he wrote down in his notebook. The star could tell that the boy was growing up as the wishes began to grow more complex. Then without warning, the intervals between the wishes began to grow longer and longer, and an empty feeling, small at first, began to grow inside the heart of the star.

It always seemed like just when the star had given up hope, he would receive a new wish, and for a brief moment, he would shine brighter than all the other stars. “Good for you,” the other stars would say, smiling at him, but the star could feel their pity hidden behind these words. In the periods between wishes, the star could only help out the other stars, and hope that he hadn’t been forgotten, all while trying to ignore the growing empty feeling eating away at him.

Years passed and the star began to wonder if the boy had moved on, if he no longer had any use for him. The star knew that humans stopped wishing on stars the older they got, he heard talk of it all the time. For the other more popular stars, this meant nothing because there was always someone new to wish on them when someone stopped believing. If the boy stopped wishing on him, it meant the star would go back to being unnoticed, no longer needed. He knew in his heart that the boy was growing up and yet he couldn’t let go of the hope that someday, perhaps the boy would need him again. The star liked to think that the reason the boy was no longer wishing on him was because his life was full of nothing but happiness. When he wasn’t helping other stars, the star would gaze down at the earth, wondering where the boy might be. Sometimes, the star would take out his notebook and look back through all of the wishes the boy had made over the years. This notebook was his most treasured possession. The other stars would pass by, and catch him looking at his notebook, and shake their heads in a combination of pity and amusement.

“There he goes, looking at that old notebook of his again,” the star would hear them murmur under their breath. “You would think he would have realized by now he’s been forgotten. Nobody has any need for a star like him.”

The star knew that even his friends thought he was pathetic, waiting for a wish that was never going to come. He put on a brave face and tried to remain as helpful to the other stars as he possibly could. As each year without a wish passed, another feeling began to creep into the star’s heart along with the emptiness. Fear. The brighter stars told him he was just imagining things, but the star knew that sometimes other stars just disappeared. They would be there one day and gone the next.

It wasn’t that the stars had died, they were simply gone. The death of a star is a big event, celebrating a lifetime of wish fulfillment. The most popular stars had remembrance ceremonies that could carry on for decades, even hundreds of years. Though it was a long ways off, the star knew that his remembrance ceremony would pale in comparison, probably no one would even realize it had occurred. Perhaps the only reason the star was able to notice the disappearances was because unlike the other stars, he wasn’t so busy, he had more time to observe his surroundings. He started paying close attention to the events leading up to these disappearances, trying to figure out if there was some kind of indication that the stars were getting ready to vanish. There didn’t seem to be one at all. As far as he could tell, it was random.

The star wished he knew what happened to the disappearing stars. Where were they all going? The one thing he knew was, none of these stars ever returned. Wherever it was they went, they didn’t come back. The creeping sensation of fear began to take over even the place where loneliness lived in the star’s heart. He tried his best not to think about it, but without wishes to distract him, it was always there. And no matter what the star did, he couldn’t shake the feeling that wherever these other stars had gone, and whatever was happening to them, he was next.


	2. A Boy and a Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he was younger Hajime Iwaizumi used to wish on a star all the time. Not just any star. One very specific star that he would always look for if he ever needed to make a wish.
> 
> He grows up and stops believing in the magic of stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to simokitten and Spaceprincessem for agreeing to beta

When he was younger Hajime Iwaizumi used to wish on a star all the time. Not just any star. One very specific star that he would always look for if he ever needed to make a wish. For some reason, he refused to make the wish if he couldn’t see his star. He had even come up with a name for the star, which his mother thought was endearing. His mother also claims that he had had a whole naming ceremony for the star, and declared the day of the ceremony its birthday. All of this is information he hopes his mother never chooses to share with anyone else. Hajime knows that naming the star you wish on is even more absurd than wishing on the star itself. He used to believe in the power of wishing on stars with all his heart, but he stopped years ago. He grew up and realized magic like that didn’t exist. 

If he thinks hard enough, he can remember the first time his mother told him about wishing stars, which was when he was about three. It’s one of his mother’s favorite stories to tell people about him, but how much is true and how much is fabricated is anyone’s guess. It was a clear summer night and he and his parents were sitting in the backyard, looking up at the sky when she pointed at a star shining particularly brightly amongst the field of all the over stars. 

“Look there Hajime, it’s a wishing star. If you wish on it, your wish comes true.”

“Does everyone wish on the same star?” Hajime asked, his eyes following the path of her finger across the sky to the star. 

“No, not everyone,” she replied laughing. “There are other wishing stars out there. After all, granting wishes is a big job. It can’t be done by one star alone. There are many wishing stars out there to choose from. People usually wish on the brightest star they see.”

Hajime’s eyes widened slightly as he proclaimed “I’m going to find my own star then! I don’t want to share a star with everyone else!”

“Hmm, let’s see, a star for Hajime…” His mother pointed at several other stars. Not a single one of these stars was good enough for Hajime. Tiny brows furrowed, his eyes scanned the sky until they at last came to rest on a star, gleaming faintly while surrounded by several other, much brighter stars. It was a star you would have to actively be searching for in order to find it, and even then you might not notice it was there. Unless you were Hajime. To his eyes, it was somehow the most vibrant of all the stars in the sky, this star was special, he could feel it. 

“There! You see that one there? That’s my star! Imma make my wish now!” He proudly thrust a tiny fist in the direction of the star, eyes gleaming. He may have imagined it, but it seemed like for just a brief moment, the star shone a bit brighter than it had when he first set eyes on it. Almost as if the star had heard him. 

“Are you sure you want that star? How are you going to find it again?” his father had asked.

“It’s my star! I’ll always know which one it is!” Hajime responded with that sense of utter conviction that only small children can seem to manage. “It’s the most perfect star in the entire sky!” 

“The most perfect star you say,” his father mused, raising one of his eyebrows and turning to look at Hajime’s mother. 

“If Hajime says that’s his star, then that’s his star. I think it’s a perfectly lovely one,” she added standing up, holding Hajime in her arms. “Do you know your wish?” Hajime nodded, scrunching up his face and closing his eyes, sending his wish out to the star. The wish was simply that he would be able to make a friend. 

The next day at the end of his play group, Hajime rushed up to his mother, chatting away excitedly. “My wish came true!” He exclaimed, smiling at her. “I asked my star to help me make a friend, and I did!” He turned around and pointed at one of the other boys in the group, who waved at Hajime and smiled when he saw him pointing. “I found the best wishing star out of all of them! It granted my wish already!” Forgetting it is daytime, he yelled “Thank you star!” up at the sky, before turning to his mother. “Wait my star isn’t there, do you think it heard me?”

“I’m sure it did Hajime. Just because you can’t see it right now, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Your star will always be there for you. And you know what? I bet that star was waiting just for someone like you to make a wish on it.” Hajime’s eyes lit up as he thought about the star perhaps needing him just as much as he needed the star. He liked the sound of that. 

It wasn’t until several more wishes of his had been granted that Hajime thought perhaps he ought to do something nice for the star as a means of thanking it. After all, the star had made everything he’d wished for come true, it was only fair that he do something for the star, right? Admittedly, these were all small wishes, with Hajime being only three, but still his star had granted each and every one of them. And to three year old Hajime Iwaizumi, this made the star the most important thing in his life after his parents. How exactly though, do you thank a star? 

“I’m going to find a name for my star,” he told his parents after he had thought about this very issue for a few days. “And it can’t just be any name, I’m going to find the best, most perfect name for my star.” They smiled at him and offered to help, but he told them that he wanted to find the name for his star all on his own. It wouldn’t be right to have any help. If someone else helped him to name his star, the name wouldn’t be as special as Hajime finding the name himself. 

During his search for a name for his star, Hajime didn’t make any wishes, it wouldn’t be right to ask the star for something while he was trying to do something nice for it. He was trying to repay the star, the wishes could wait. Finally he was convinced he had thought of the perfect name for the star, but he refused to tell his parents whenever they asked. 

The name of the star was a secret, at least until Hajime held a naming ceremony for the star, which his parents were also invited to. One day, he painted signs with his mother while his father was at work, full of glitter stars and vibrant colors. His family even had a special dinner in celebration of the event, at Hajime’s insistence. That night after dinner his parents hung the signs Hajime and his mother made along with some streamers all across the backyard. There was also a small bowl of confetti. As the stars began to appear in the sky, Hajime looked up and immediately found his star, a smile breaking across his face. 

Hajime stood up on wobbly legs, still looking at the star. He bowed his head in thanks before returning his gaze to the star. “My star, the best star in the whole sky, today is your birthday. To thank you for granting my wishes, I am giving you a name.” He reached a tiny hand into the bowl of confetti and threw a fistful of it into the air. “Happy birthday, Tooru.” 

For a few years Hajime insisted on holding a birthday party for Tooru on this same date. Around the time he was seven, he stopped throwing birthday parties. For a year or so after this, he still referred to the star as Tooru, but eventually this stopped as well. Hajime never told any of his classmates that he named his wishing star, perhaps realizing in the back of his mind that this wasn’t something most people did. Over time, he forgets that he had done this, until his mother brings it up, and his face flushes red with embarrassment. 

As he grew older, while Hajime continued to make wishes on the star long after his classmates had stopped, he made less and less of them. Stars don’t grant wishes, they all say, everybody knows that. And yet...no matter how much time elapses between his wishes, every wish Hajime made on the star still came true. It seemed that Hajime truly did pick a special star, maybe the only one in the whole sky actually capable of granting wishes. 

When he looks up at the sky at night, the star is still the first one he sees, though sometimes he doesn’t look for it at all. He never makes a wish on a night when he can’t see the star. Months at a time start to pass without him making a wish before stretching into a period of more than a year. Before the end of his first year of middle school, Hajime has stopped making wishes at all. He no longer remembers what this final wish was, and it’s not important. Growing up means that Hajime has come to realize that there is no secret magic to the stars. Hajime knows now that stars can’t grant wishes, no matter how much you may want them to. If it’s something you can’t make happen for yourself, it’s not meant to be. Wishing on stars is something you only do when you’re small. The star has never been anything more than that. It is only a star. Wishing on stars is a waste of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reflection on how Hajime came to choose Tooru as his star. From this point on, the chapters I have already written are considerably longer than this. I'm going to try to make the length consistent, but I'm doing this off of where it feels right to end them, so we'll see. 
> 
> I'm on twitter @stormysgambit where I spout off my IwaOi headcanons and occasionally talk about what I am doing as I write.


	3. A Turning Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime's life changes direction, and he finds himself turning to the stars for answers for the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Spaceprincessem and Simokitten for agreeing to beta for me

Things are going pretty well for Hajime. He is in his third year at university, studying sports medicine. He still talks to his two best friends from high school, even though they went to universities in different cities. He has been dating the same girl for three years and they have recently moved in together. Everything seemed to be moving in the right direction and Hajime had known where his life was headed. At least he thought he had. And then three days ago, that changed. 

Hajime and Mayu are standing in their apartment, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill at a moment’s notice. 

“You’re breaking up with me? I don’t understand.” Hajime’s eyes search hers, seeking answers for where he went wrong, watching as more tears add to the growing pool, so close to overflowing now, while she struggles to retain her composure. “I thought we were happy.” 

She sighs, and runs a shaking hand through her long hair. He pretends not to notice, she’s always hated having others see her vulnerable. “That’s the thing Hajime, you may not have noticed, because we’ve just gotten too comfortable being with each other. We’re stagnant, running through the same motions day after day, never moving forward. There’s no real spark here anymore. At least not for you. And don’t,” she adds as Hajime opens his mouth to protest “Say that you love me. We both know you don’t. Maybe you used to, but not anymore.” She lifts her chin up, shoulders trembling as she fights to prevent the tears from spilling down her cheeks. She won’t let him see them fall. As the words leave her lips, Hajime realizes that what she is saying is true. He enjoys spending time with her and talking with her late into the night, but she’s right. He no longer finds himself thinking about her as much throughout his day, or buying things for her just because they reminded him of her. He wonders when that happened. How long has she been feeling this way and why hasn’t he noticed?

Time pauses for several minutes as they both stand there looking at each other in the suffocating silence until finally she speaks again. “I just can’t stay here with you anymore. Not when I know that you’re no longer in love with me. Knowing that I’m not the one you’re meant to be with. I hope everything works out for you though, I do.” She presses a kiss to Hajime’s cheek and then she is gone. Hajime stares at the door as it closes after her, and then walks to the couch and sits down, brain numb. He doesn’t cry, in fact, he doesn’t feel much of anything at all. 

Mayu’s absence doesn’t bother Hajime as much as he expected it to. It is a bit weird at first, waking up alone when she used to be next to him, and her floral scent still lingers in the air, a silent reminder that this was supposed to be a shared space. The stifling loneliness and crushing pain in his chest that he should be feeling, he doesn’t. He is fine, he keeps insisting and yet his friends, Issei and Takahiro, argue that they are coming out to see him and that they are all going out on Friday night, either so he can mourn his breakup, or to celebrate his newfound freedom, he can take his pick. 

Hajime thanks whatever gods there may be out there that his friends waited until Friday night to drag him out because he is pretty sure the only thing he is going to be feeling tomorrow is regret. They have decided that apparently what Hajime needs at this moment in his life, is an ungodly amount of shots. Because they are only looking out for his best interests, and they are good friends. Or at least that’s what they keep telling him. He has to struggle to remind himself of this fact as the night passes in a blur of an increasing number of empty glasses on a sticky tabletop and loud, pulsating music. He is trying to remember why exactly he considers them his best friends when they are ushered out of the door at closing time, Hajime propped between the two of them because his legs are barely capable of supporting him anymore. Yes, there will definitely be regret in the morning. If he lives that is. 

“You sure you don’t need us to walk you home?” Takahiro asks Hajime as he starts heading in the direction of his apartment. 

“The two of you have been plenty helpful already,” Hajime retorts, or at least he thinks he does, his brain and tongue no longer are in communication. Forming actual words is difficult, the ability to speak coherently vanished hours ago. “I think I can manage to get home on my own, it’s not that far.” They both raise their eyebrows and exchange a look, sniggering at him.

“What are you two laughing about?”

“You might,” Issei begins, grabbing Hajime by the shoulders, “want to head in that direction.” He spins Hajime around so he faces in the opposite direction. “Absolutely positive you can manage?” Hajime knows Issei is still smirking at him, even without seeing his face. 

“I’ll be fine, no thanks to either of you,” Hajime manages to get out, waving them off with a shaking hand. 

“Try not to die in a ditch somewhere!” 

“Give us a call in the morning to let us know you’re still alive!” 

“You’re both soooooo helpful,” he shouts back, rolling his eyes. “I need to remember to get better friends,” he mutters under his breath, staggering in the direction of home, legs threatening to give out at any moment. 

When Hajime thinks about the remaining events of that night over the years, he will blame them on the alcohol. Whether it is due to the vodka, or something else entirely, Hajime finds himself looking up at the stars for the first time in years. Actually looking that is, not just a casual glance. The night is overcast and he can barely make out any stars in the sky. He certainly doesn’t see _his_ star up there. That’s something else he hasn’t done in years, thought about the fact that he once had his own star. 

He stops underneath a lamp post, bracing one hand against it to hold himself up as he continues to search the sky. “I don’t know if you’re still up there, well I assume you are, not like stars go anywhere.” He sighs in frustration. “I know it’s been a while since I asked you for anything, but if you’re still there, and you’re still listening, I could use your help right now. Since you always seemed to do everything I asked from you. I don’t have a wish exactly, I just…need to know if I’m doing things right. Heading in the right direction and all that.” He continues to stare blearily upwards, there is no response. He’s not really sure what he expected. “This is stupid. I wish you could answer me.” He peels himself away from the lamppost just as there is a bright flash of light above him. Something streaks across the sky, gradually getting lower as it moves. It looks like it is heading towards the lake. 

Common sense would tell Hajime not to go running off in the direction of a strange light falling from the sky, but common sense was thrown out the window the moment he had agreed to go out drinking with his friends. So he takes off, heading towards the lake in an unsteady jog, his movement seemingly beyond his control, he feels as though he is being pulled along by force. Common sense and logic be damned. Again, he’ll blame the alcohol later.

As he reaches the edge of the park, he promptly doubles over and vomits into some bushes. The air is eerily still, there is no rustling of leaves, even the insects are silent. Anticipation hangs in the air. Wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, he cautiously makes his way down one of the paths. “Here’s hoping I don’t get arrested for trespassing.” It is a slow process in the dark and his current state, feeling his way along the path, hanging off of trees to keep himself upright. When he finally exits, he sees something emitting a brilliant white light on the far side of the lake. “Of fucking course. You couldn’t make this easy for me, could you?” He glances up at the sky, shaking his head. Were his head more clear perhaps it would have registered the constellation that housed his star overhead, the clouds finally cleared away, the stars twinkling in silent laughter. “Some help you are.”

Hajime continues around the edge of the lake, heading towards the glowing light. “Whatever this is had better be worth it,” he says out loud. As he draws closer, the light becomes so searingly strong that he is nearly blinded by it. He shields his eyes with one arm and lowers his gaze, but it does little good. There is an intense heat, more powerful than an oven, coming from whatever the source is, and he can make out faint tendrils of smoke dancing around the edges of the light. There is something moving at the center. 

Hajime knows that every single one of his instincts should be screaming at him to run rather than move closer and yet he feels no fear, no sense of panic. Instead of turning and running, he presses steadily closer, sweat dripping down his face as he nears the field of light. The moment he steps into the edge of where the light hits, there is a brilliant flash and he staggers backwards, blinded. Without warning, the light vanishes, and the intense heat is gone. When Hajime’s vision returns, he can see something tall and slender standing a few feet away from him, shimmering with a faint silver glow. It is at this moment that his mind and body finally seem to get on the same page and that page is telling him he needs to run. As the figure takes a step towards him, he scrambles backwards, trips over a rock, and promptly blacks out.

★★★★★

He has no idea where he is or what just happened to him. Wherever he is, it certainly isn’t the constellation. He is somewhere very, very far away. And wherever it is, it’s _hard._ He can also feel a kind of intense pressure all around him weighing him down, making his limbs feel much heavier than they should. His body doesn’t even feel like his anymore, fingers barely moving when he tells them to. He can feel a vaguely familiar presence that he can’t quite place coming towards him, so wherever this is, he isn’t alone. There is a faint vibrating sensation in his heart as whoever it is approaches. 

Slowly, he takes in his surroundings. Trees. Water. Grass. Looking up, sky. He knows this place now. How could he not, all the time he’s spent looking down on it, observing, hoping, and waiting? He is on _Earth._ Which must mean…his heart vibrates a bit more strongly and a soft humming noise escapes his mouth. As the smoke clears away, he can see a figure standing a few feet away from him. He takes a step forward. Or at least he tries to. His legs betray him, and he sprawls awkwardly onto the ground. Oh. Right. Gravity. 

Not exactly the stellar first impression he could have hoped to make, but seeing as the young man before him is currently unconscious, technically no one was around to witness this newfound gracelessness of his. He attempts to stand again, his arms trembling as they brace against the firm ground as he pushes himself upright. For a moment, it seems to work, but when he loses focus to congratulate himself on this achievement, he topples forward again. He lets out a huff of air. “This is going to be problematic, and so undignified,” he thinks to himself, as he instead inches his way towards the unconscious figure, crawling across the grass.

The young man appears to be alive, his chest is moving at least. There are several scratches on his arms, but more worrying is the lump rising on his head and the blood flowing from a cut on in the middle of it. Slender fingers reach out and gently trace their way up the arms. There is a soft glow where the fingers touch the scratches and they disappear. He reaches out, placing a lone finger on the knot, the same glowing light expanding around the wound. He watches as the knot begins to shrink and the cut stops bleeding before closing up. 

The humming noise escapes from his mouth again, a bit louder this time, while his heart vibrates more rapidly in his chest. He presses one hand against his chest, trying to calm it and prevent it from bursting. The moment his fingers made contact with the skin of the young man, he was hit by a wave of familiar feelings. He knows this energy well, he’s encountered it many times. There is no mistake, this young man before him is his wisher. Which means he must have been sent here for a reason. He is once again needed. He sits back, resting his head on one hand, eyes peering anxiously at Hajime’s still unmoving form. After several minutes, Hajime’s hand twitches, and his eyes open. “Don’t move” he tries to tell Hajime but there is no response. “You fell,” he adds.

Hajime can feel something in his brain, like whispering in a language he can’t understand. He rubs a hand to the back of his head as he sits upright, trying to remember what happened. “Oh fuck” he says, as his eyes land on the humanoid figure in front of him. It is sitting about a foot or two away from him, surveying him. There is a bright, but pleasant glow coming from silver, pearlescent skin, and silver hair falls across its face in soft waves. It is watching him with large, bluish silver eyes that appear to be filled with concern. He feels the faint whispering sensation in his head again. 

Hajime and the figure sit there, observing each other in silence, neither one daring to move. Time seems to have suspended until there is another sudden pulse of light. The figure collapses and the silver light surrounding it fades to a dull glow. Hajime watches as the skin loses its pearly sheen and slowly takes on a color paler than Hajime’s own, the hair turning from deep silver to brown. If it weren’t for the faint glowing light still emanating from the unconscious form, it would pass for an individual of roughly the same age as Hajime. A silver mist hangs in the air for a brief moment before vanishing. The figure remains unconscious, showing no signs of waking up. Hajime waits for several minutes, watching to see if it regains consciousness. It becomes apparent that it will not be waking up, and therefore Hajime must do something. He has no discernible plan, all he knows is he can’t leave whatever this is here. So, perhaps against his better judgment, he picks the figure up and slowly makes his way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are, Hajime and Tooru's first encounter 
> 
> Sorry that it took so long between when I posted the first two chapters and now, people got busy.  
> I have heard back about the next chapter, probably just going to glance back over it myself, but it should also be up soon. Still plugging along. 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit) where I occasionally talk about what I am doing and quite often spout off headcanons


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime wakes up to a strange individual in his bed. A search for a notebook and a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Simokitten and Spaceprincessem

He must have fallen asleep with the light on. Or possibly someone has snuck a floodlight into his room because whatever the source of the light is seems far too bright for the crappy overhead light that is a staple of cheap student apartments everywhere. Hajime doesn’t remember how he got home, there is a possibility this isn’t even his apartment. Maybe he has a concussion, he vaguely remembers hitting his head on something. Which is exactly what he needs, a concussion on top of a hangover. As he lays there trying to piece together the events of last night, he feels a faint tickling sensation against his neck. “Mayu?” he mumbles, opening his eyes slowly. He counts to ten as he does so, allowing them time to adjust to how bright the room is. As the last remnants of sleep clear away from his vision, he is greeted with a faceful of brown hair and a softly pulsing light. It takes his brain a moment to process what exactly it is his eyes are seeing, but when it finally does, Hajime lets out a startled yell. The sound reverberates through the otherwise silent room. Opening his eyes, the male lying in bed next to Hajime bolts upright, takes one look at Hajime and also screams.

“You expect me to believe that you’re a star,” Hajime repeats for what feels like the tenth time, looking at the individual sitting across from him. One of his hands rests on the mug of coffee sitting in front of him, steam slowly curling upwards. Now that Hajime has gotten over his initial shock, he is watching his visitor with skepticism, still pondering that concussion and exactly how hungover he is. The problem is, his head feels surprisingly clear. Maybe he’s suffered so much brain damage he feels fine. 

Whether Hajime believes what he has just been told or not, there’s no denying that the face looking back at him is the most beautiful one he has ever seen, there’s something almost ethereal about it. The other male is staring back at him intently, a combined look of indignation and intrigue on his face, his large brown eyes locked onto Hajime’s own green ones.They are two deep pools, framed by impossibly long lashes, giving off an air of vast knowledge and weariness from the weight of it. Hajime can feel himself being pulled down into their depths; they are simultaneously captivating and unsettling. His face is framed by hair that falls in slightly tousled waves, achieving the sort of effortless perfection Hajime’s own hair could only dream about. Every strand of hair gleams as it catches the light of the morning sun coming through the kitchen window, a shimmering combination of brown, red, and gold. There is a dark bruise running across the pale skin of one of his cheeks, another blooming on his forearm from when he fell just moments ago, yet these blemishes emphasize his beauty rather than detracting from it. 

“Ye-es,” the star responds, slowly drumming long fingers on the tabletop, a hint of irritation in his voice both at having to repeat himself yet again, but also how inconvenient this form of communication is.. His heart is straining against his chest, beating so fast he is amazed Hajime hasn’t picked up on it. Despite the excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he also feels comforted by Hajime’s presence, he feels safe. Hajime has given no indication that he recognizes him, which only adds to his irritation. He takes in the tiny details of Hajime’s appearance as he watches him, the broad slope of his shoulders, the slightly crooked nature of his smile, the warm and friendly green eyes, currently looking back at him in disbelief. The longer they sit in silence, the more he notices the relief he had felt upon realizing he found Hajime is slowly fading away, darkening to the familiar emptiness. He shakes his head, attempting to push these thoughts back into the recesses of his mind. \

“Surprisingly graceless, aren’t you? I would have thought stars would be more coordinated,” Hajime teases, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gravity is  _ hard, _ ” the star exclaims, voice rising several octaves and a pout forming on his face. “You try living as long as I have and not actually having to deal with it. It doesn’t work like this up there,” he gestures at the ceiling. “You however, have spent your entire life around gravity, it’s not funny.” His eyes narrow and darken, voice icing over. 

Hajime quickly looks away, stifling a laugh. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He smiles apologetically. Probably not a good idea to insult someone who might possess the ability to kill him with their mind. “If what you’re claiming is true though, how exactly did you wind up here on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” The star blows a wisp of hair out of his eyes with a huff. “One moment I’m up there like always, next thing I know, I’m hurtling through space, and then, I find myself here.” He taps on the table for emphasis this time, then rests his head on the tabletop and looks up at Hajime, eyes partially obscured by the fringe of his hair. As if Hajime has any better reason to have the answer to this question than he does. 

“Hey don’t look at me, I don’t even remember much from last night.” Hajime rubs the back of his neck, the details of the previous night still little more than a blur “I seem to remember hitting my head at some point, and yet…” his voice trails off. 

“That’s because I healed you! ” the star replies grinning broadly and lifting his head back up as he leans closer to Hajime. 

“Healed me...how exactly?” 

“It would be hard to put into words you’re capable of understanding. A  _ very _ simplified explanation would be that we emit a healing energy. Part of the reason we live so long, even though space debris is so dangerous.” Hajime is looking at him blankly, causing him to sigh in exasperation. “Okay in your case, I had to make physical contact with you but it works more or less like this.” He closes his eyes, lets out a breath, and his body is enveloped by the warm, silver light. As Hajime watches, the bruises on his arm and face begin to fade until they disappear completely. When they are completely gone, the light vanishes again. “You’re welcome, by the way,” the star says looking at him expectantly, eyes shifting back from cold, deep, sapphire blue to the warmer chocolate brown. 

An embarrassed blush spreads across Hajime’s face. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that...uh...do you even have a name?”

“Of course I have a name,” the star scoffs, making a melodious noise akin to wind chimes blowing in a faint breeze. 

“Right, we’ll find something else to call you then.” Realizing he has yet to offer his own name, he adds, “Iwaizumi. Hajime.”    
  


“Iwz...Iwaizy..Iwa” The star’s forehead scrunches in frustration as he tries to get his tongue around the “z” correctly and can’t. He makes several attempts before Hajime finally cuts him off. 

“Alright, don’t hurt yourself. You can just call me Hajime. Iwaizumi is my family name.” 

“Hajime. Hajime. Hajime.” He repeats the name softly to himself, trying to get the sound of it exactly right. 

“Good enough,” Hajime says with a shrug. “Okay, now that that’s sorted, let’s figure out your new name. Good thing we have the internet.”

“Internet?” the star asks in confusion.

“You’ll see.” Hajime shrugs again and goes to retrieve his laptop from the study. 

They sit on the couch, shoulders touching, while Hajime scrolls through a seemingly endless list of names on this “internet”. The star peers at the screen while Hajime scrolls, occasionally pulling on Hajime’s wrist to get him to stop or scroll back up. “None of these are right.” He frowns at the screen, blowing a long breath out from between his pursed lips. He’s still not entirely sure what’s wrong with  _ his  _ name, it’s a perfectly good name. He’s already had to acquiesce to verbal communication, he shouldn’t have to give up his name as well. 

“What does that even mean? Just pick something you like the sound of.” Hajime pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, he can feel that long overdue headache coming on. 

The star turns and gives him a look that says he clearly thinks Hajime is an idiot when he seems to think of something else entirely and his expression shifts to something more closely resembling panic.

“Hajime!” 

“That’s my name, we can’t have the same name,” Hajime responds wearily, “It would cause too much confusion.” 

“No, I know that. Hajime, where is my notebook?!?!?” The star grabs at Hajime’s arm, his eyes wide. 

“Notebook? You didn’t have a notebook.”

“I did, I carry it everywhere with me! You’re sure you didn’t bring it back here?” The star’s eyes are accusatory now, watching Hajime closely as though expecting him to produce this notebook from thin air. 

“I didn’t see anything with you. I’m sure I have one lying around you can use.”

“No Hajime, we have to go find  _ my _ notebook, it’s my most important possession!” His tone is a panicked whine and there are tears in the corners of his eyes, sparkling like diamonds. 

Hajime sighs again, he’s been doing that a lot today, he thinks. “Okay, we’ll go look for it, but you’re going to need to borrow some of my clothes, you can’t go out looking like that.” 

The star’s eyes narrow again and his voice takes on a steely edge as he glances at Hajime and then down at his own wardrobe. “What exactly is wrong with the way I’m dressed?” 

“You look like you dropped out of the Greek pantheon, it’s not exactly the fashion of choice these days.” 

“Well what you’re wearing looks pretty weird if you ask me. Maybe you’re the ones who have it backwards, after all, you humans are mere  _ infants _ in comparison to us.” 

Technically he has a point, but it would be easier for Hajime to go along with what he’s saying if he weren’t so smug about it. He sits there watching Hajime fish for a response with a self satisfied smirk on his face. 

After a brief argument and much huffing, Hajime manages to convince the star to put on some of his clothes rather than remaining in his own. Hajime offers to go and look for the notebook by himself, concerned about two things: the fact that the star is, as he stated, still adjusting to the gravity of the planet which is going to make extended searching difficult, and what to do if the star should randomly start to glow. He does seem to have a handle on the latter from what Hajime can tell. He’s not glowing at the moment at least, which is a start. He insists on coming however, a pleading and anxious look on his face that completely obliterates any self-resolve Hajime thought he had. 

Hajime doesn’t have the heart to mention that even if the notebook is somewhere around where the star fell, someone has probably found it already. It is Saturday, only a few clouds hanging in the sky overhead, and the breeze carrying only the slightest hint of the cold that is yet to come as they head into winter. It is the kind of day that drives people to be outside, which greatly reduces the chances of their search being successful. 

They walk in silence, the star focused on moving one foot in front of the other without falling. Hajime’s arm is a firm presence around his waist, providing him additional support and nestling their bodies together. He is wearing a pair of Hajime’s jeans, too short for him, with several inches of his leg showing, and an old, well-worn sweatshirt. He notices a few people watching them as they pass, and Hajime notices them as well, eyebrows furrowing and a slight scowl forming at the edges of his mouth.

“Hajime what’s wrong?”

The voice snaps Hajime out of his thoughts and he sees the star looking down at him, worried. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.” He tightens his grip around the star’s waist. Hajime knows exactly why people are staring at them, knows what this looks like. Mayu lived in the apartment with him for a little more than a year. Prior to that, she was over at his apartment all the time. People knew they were dating. It’s likely some of them thought they still were, although surely they have noticed her absence throughout the week. So yes, Hajime knows exactly how it looks, him walking down the street with his arm wrapped around a man. But that’s a problem of Hajime’s, not something he can explain to someone he just met, let alone someone who knows nothing about human relationships. 

Sure enough, when they reach the park it is full of lovers and families with small children, taking advantage of the nice weather. Just like Hajime was expecting. Hajime looks around, trying to think of just where they should begin their search. 

“Hajime? I think I’ve got the hang of it, you can let go now.” The star tries to keep the apprehension he actually feels out of his voice. He’s not sure he does, not really, but he could feel how tense Hajime was next to him as they walked. So he can fake it until he does have the hang of it. 

Hajime raises an eyebrow, perhaps sensing the uncertainty in his voice. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry, I’m a fast learner!” He practically chirps at Hajime and offers a broad smile, so Hajime lets go of him, slowly and his arm still hovers in the air behind him. He takes a step forward and then another. Yes, he is getting the hang of this. “Now which way do we need to go?” Hajime gestures at one of the paths, and they set off. He can feel Hajime’s eyes on his back as he walks, deliberately, thinking hard about every step. He misses the reassuring grip of Hajime’s arm around his waist. He feels less sure with every step he takes. Things are going well until he trips over a tree root that he doesn’t see. He can feel himself falling until he’s not, Hajime grabbing him and preventing him from hitting the ground. 

“You were lying,” Hajime says tersely, looking into the star’s face as he steadies him. 

“Nonsense Hajime, I just didn’t see that branch there. You can let go of me.” 

“You don’t have to pretend. It’s okay to need help you know. You’re still learning.” 

He doesn’t like the way Hajime’s eyes are focused on him, knows Hajime doesn’t believe what he’s telling him. But the worst is the concern that is spreading over Hajime’s face, causing his chest to tighten. Truthfully, he felt much better with Hajime’s arm around him, even if it meant his heart had begun its insistent, irregular drumming again as a result. He will not make Hajime any more uncomfortable. 

“No, no it really was the branch!” He gestures wildly with his hands and smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. 

Hajime purses his lips but doesn’t press the matter. They continue, Hajime trailing behind him, watching to see if he’s going to fall again. When they emerge at the edge of the lake, his eyes widen as he takes in the shimmering surface before him. He has never seen a body of water up close. The rays of the sun dance across the still surface, causing it to glimmer, transfixing him. Hajime tugs on his arm gently, pulling him away. 

“It was somewhere around here,” Hajime says gesturing at a large patch of burned grass. As he had feared, there are several other people lingering around, curiously looking at the scorched earth. Seeing the grass, a new thought enters Hajime’s mind that perhaps the notebook burned up, there may be nothing left. The star has already dropped to the grass beside him, frantically pulling at it. Hajime follows suit, combing through the area in a more methodical and deliberate manner. His fingers brush against something soft and leathery feeling. It is some kind of book, which he flips open revealing elegant, silvery writing in a language he’s never seen before. “Hey,” he calls out. “Is this it?”

The star looks up, relief washing over his face. “Hajime you found it!” he cries out as he rushes over. “I don’t know what I would do without this.” He clutches the book to his chest, breaking out in what may be perhaps the first truly genuine smile Hajime has seen him make. 

★★★★★

Back at the apartment, the star is sitting on the couch, flipping through the book with a slightly sad expression. 

“If it’s something that causes you pain, why is it so important to you?” Hajime asks.

The star looks up at him and taps a finger against the side of his head. “Because these are my most cherished memories. They may have been surrounded by periods of sadness, but these memories are my source of hope. They’re the best things that ever happened to me.”

“I’d like to hear about them some day.” The star smiles sadly at him when he says this, and Hajime suddenly remembers a name he hadn’t thought of in years. “Tooru.” The word comes out barely a whisper.

“What did you say?” The star is no longer flipping through the book, more interested in what Hajime just said. 

“Tooru.” Hajime pauses, memories clicking into place. “This is going to sound stupid, but when I was younger, I had a star that I wished on all the time. The same star. I insisted on using the same one. I even came up with a name for it. I haven’t thought about it in years. I named it...Tooru. The name suits you somehow I think.” His brow knits together and he stares at the star, trying to unlock more of his memories. 

A pained expression flits across the star’s face before quickly vanishing. “Tooru” he whispers, placing a hand against his pounding heart. He is filled with an immense joy to learn that Hajime gifted him with a name once, and has now, unknowingly, chosen the same name for him again. And yet...there is still that bleak, dark feeling he can’t seem to escape, a growing sadness over the fact that Hajime still does not realize he is  _ that _ star. “Yes, I like the sound of that.” He smiles softly at Hajime, but the expression doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

That night after Hajime goes to bed, Tooru opens the door to the tiny balcony. He leans against the railing and lifts his head up to the sky. It looks different from down here, innumerable stars stretching out above him, glimmering against an inky black canvas. He never realized quite how many of them there were when he was up there among the other stars, and he has never felt quite as small and insignificant as he does at this moment. He is surprised, with so many up there to choose from, that Hajime chose him. 

“What did you send me here for? What is it I’m supposed to do exactly?” He pauses for a moment, his voice a bit thicker when he speaks again. “It’s not like he even recognizes me, surely there was someone better. Someone else you could have sent.” The other stars twinkle softly overhead, but give no indication they have heard him. He’s not sure exactly what he was expecting. He lowers himself onto the cold concrete and folds his legs up against his chest, eyes still looking up at the sky, silently pleading with the other stars for an answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, actual face to face meeting and interaction between Tooru and Hajime. 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit) where I occasionally talk about what I'm doing with my writing and spout off a lot of head canons.


	5. Learning Curve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru learns a bit more about how Tooru came to choose him as his star, and Hajime learns a bit about what life is like for a star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to Spaceprincessem and Simokitten

On the weekends, mornings always come too early for Hajime’s liking. He stuffs his head under the pillow and burrows further into his sheets as faint rays of light sneak through his curtains. He’s allowed to sleep in, it’s not like he has anything pressing to take care of today. If he can just get five more minutes, he’ll be happy. He stretches his arm out and meets nothing but cold. Either his new housemate is up already, or he slept somewhere else. If stars even need sleep that is, and Hajime honestly has no idea if they do. Probably not. 

He lays there for several minutes, unsuccessfully trying to will himself back to sleep before he groans and sits up, cracking his neck. “Hopefully the rest of the apartment is still here,” he thinks to himself as he pads across the floor and opens the door to his bedroom. The air outside his room is several degrees colder than it is inside, the hardwood floor chilly against his feet. The reason for this, he realizes, is the open door to his balcony, the plastic blinds drifting lazily in the early morning breeze. Hajime wanders over, hugging his arms to his chest, and sticks his head through the open door. Tooru is curled up on the patio, completely still other than the wind ruffling through his hair.

“Oy,” Hajime calls out to him. “Were you out here all night?”

Upon hearing his voice, Tooru turns to look at him, eyes clouded over and dazed, as though he isn’t sure where he is. They are no longer brown, but instead that deep, unnerving blue, Hajime notices. 

“How are you not cold?” Hajime shivers and reaches out, touching Tooru’s shoulder. He can feel a small wave of heat radiate up his arm as soon as he makes contact. “Let me guess. Star magic allows you to regulate your internal temperature. Must be nice, some of us don’t have that luxury.”

Tooru’s eyes slowly slide back into focus at Hajime’s touch, breaking him out of whatever trance he has locked himself into. They flit to Hajime’s hand resting on his shoulder and then up to Hajime’s face as though only just now realizing that he is standing there. 

“Hajime what are you doing standing out here in the cold dressed like that?” 

Hajime’s mouth drops and he stares back at Tooru, incredulous. “I’m not the one who spent the night out on the balcony. What were you doing out here anyways? You’re going to make yourself sick.” Tooru’s brow furrows in confusion at this statement, maybe stars don’t have to worry about things like illness. 

“Just thinking,” Tooru hums, as the last trace of blue clears away from his eyes. He offers no further explanation. 

“I came out here looking for you, wondering why my apartment feels like a polar bear decided to live in it,” Hajime retorts, rubbing a hand against his face in exasperation. Tooru still makes no effort to move, he remains seated on the concrete, looking up at Hajime with that same puzzled expression. Hajime is going to be lucky if this whole experience doesn’t wind up giving him an ulcer or an aneurysm. 

He rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated breath. “Come on,” he says, extending a hand to help pull Tooru up. Whether it’s due to the lack of circulation to his legs or the force with which Hajime has pulled him up, Tooru winds up crashing straight into Hajime’s chest. Reflexively, Hajime wraps an arm around Tooru’s waist to steady him, and another wave of heat courses through him. “That’s what you get for sitting in one spot all night,” Hajime chides from around a mouthful of Tooru’s hair. 

He drags Tooru back into the apartment, and shoves him onto the couch while he makes coffee, more for the caffeine than to warm himself up, he has a feeling he’ll need it. Hajime’s thoughts are interrupted by his phone breaking out into some obnoxious pop song he’s never bothered to learn the name of. He swears loudly and Tooru covers his ears with his hands, head turning around as he tries to locate the source of the abrasive noise. Hajime slams his mug down on the counter and stalks to his room, fishing around for his phone. “What do you want?” he snaps as he accepts the call. 

“Now, now, is that any way to treat us when we’ve been sitting here wondering if you were even alive? Can you believe how rude he is to us Issei?” Takahiro’s patronizing tone makes Hajime want to drive his head into a wall. 

Oh. Right. In the wake of events since they parted ways Friday night, Hajime completely forgot he was supposed to call his friends yesterday. “Yes, I’m alive, no thanks to the pair of you.” He flops down on the couch next to Tooru. 

“We were only helping you get over your heartbreak,” Issei’s voice chimes in. Of course they have him on speaker phone, they always do this to him. 

“Hajime, who are you talking to on that, that…thing?” Tooru removes his hands from his ears, pulling on Hajime’s arm. His voice is wary, the pitch higher than normal. Hajime groans, he can actually hear the raised eyebrows and smirks forming in unison on his friends’ faces the moment Tooru opens his mouth. They are not going to let him live this down. Ever. 

“Sounds like he didn’t need our help though, does it?” 

“Hajime…” Tooru asks again, pulling on his arm a bit more forcefully. 

Hajime covers the mouthpiece and brushes at him with his free hand, hoping he’ll take the hint and stop talking. “Look, I’ll explain it to you in a minute okay, they’re just my idiot friends.” Tooru relaxes his grip on Hajime’s arm, and thankfully says nothing further, just sits there eying Hajime in suspicion. 

“Look at you all grown up,” Takahiro says, sniggering. “We’ll let you get back to your…uh…guest. Give us a call when you’re more free.” He hangs up with a click and Hajime can feel a deep red blush spreading across his face. He places his phone down on the coffee table, sighing before he turns to look at Tooru. 

Tooru’s eyes have gone from being wide with shock to little more than slits and he is glaring down at the phone, as though afraid it may explode. He points one long finger at it and asks again “Hajime what is that thing?” a very noticeable hint of distrust in his voice. Admittedly, he had been wary of Hajime’s laptop yesterday as well, but in the laptop’s defense, it doesn’t spontaneously burst into loud noise like the phone just did. 

He is so deadly serious, Hajime has to quickly suppress the urge to laugh. “It’s just my phone.” Tooru arches an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. “People use it as a means of communication over distance. You can talk to someone even if they’re not there with you.” Tooru continues to eye the phone, so Hajime picks it up and places it into his pocket. “Surely you have something similar, right? I mean you guys are all so spread out, right, so…” his voice trails off as he waits for Tooru to answer. 

Tooru rubs at his ears and leans back, tilting his head upwards. “There’s not really much communication between different constellations,” he says at last, tone pensive. “At least, not between the lower level stars. I think the higher ups communicate though, when new galaxies form, things like that. But we don’t talk like this. It’s all…in here.” He taps on the side of his head. “It’s easier the closer you are to someone, the signal gets a bit fuzzier the further away from them you are. It’s so much louder down here,” he adds with a grimace, rubbing his ears again. 

Hajime nods, thinking he’s understood what was said, at least on a basic level. It makes sense that stars would communicate telepathically, with space being a vacuum and sound having no means to travel. His mind wanders while he listens to Tooru speak, pieces slowly clicking into place. He had thought, in the back corner of his mind, that there was still a possibility he was imagining Tooru, but if his friends could hear him, then that must mean he’s real. 

Tooru’s voice interrupts his thoughts abruptly. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Looking at you how?”

Tooru’s eyes are dangerously narrow, jaw firmly set, shoulders rigid. “Honestly, Hajime, I realize that I look weird in this form, but really that’s no reason to stare at me. It’s rude.” Tooru lets out a little huff of air, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Hajime gapes at him. Tooru must not realize that even if he no longer possesses the ethereal beauty he had when Hajime first saw him, he is well above the bar for what humans consider attractive. It’s interesting really, that dealing with someone who is so much older than he is is almost the same as dealing with a three year old. There’s a naiveté that’s both endearing and irritating combined with wisdom that most adults lack. And then, there’s Tooru’s constant need to question everything. 

His eyes remain fixed on Tooru, looking him up and down. “You’re actually here, aren’t you?” Hajime realizes he is treading on dangerous ice with this question, Tooru’s pupils little more than pinpricks, but he asks anyway. 

Tooru clicks his tongue and purses his lips together, tossing his head, hair fanning out then falling back into place. “Silly Hajime, didn’t we go through all of this yesterday?” He inches closer and cups Hajime’s face with one hand. “Did I not heal you properly?” He scrunches his face up, somehow managing to look patronizing and concerned at the same time. The soft white glow appears around his hand, and Hajime can feel the warmth flowing between them. “No…I don’t feel anything wrong with you…” His brow furrows further as he pulls away, frowning. “I don’t understand it.” 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s still just a lot to take in. I think my brain is finally starting to catch up though. Humans can be a bit slow sometimes.” Tooru nods in understanding, reaching out to pat him on the arm. 

Silence stretches between them. 

“Well we have the whole day ahead of us, is there anything in particular you want to do?” Realistically, Hajime has studying and school work that he should be doing, but he pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind for now. He’ll probably regret this tomorrow. 

“What does Hajime like to do?” 

“Fairly standard stuff. Go to the gym, hike, go out with my friends. Nothing terribly exciting.” He shrugs apologetically as Tooru continues to peer at him intently. 

“I want to hear more about Hajime. Tell me more about your star that you had.” Tooru tucks his knees up against his chin, hair flopping over his eyes. 

“You’d be better off talking to my mom about that. She remembers it far better than I do. She’s the one who told me about wishing on stars when I was younger. I had forgotten about it until last night.”

“Hajime’s mom sounds nice,” Tooru’s voice is soft, almost like he is falling asleep, faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He gazes at Hajime from beneath the fringe of his hair. 

Hajime is struck with the sudden realization that he has no idea what it is Tooru needs in order to survive. Does he need to sleep even? Does he need food? He wracks his brain trying to remember if Tooru even ate anything yesterday. It’s not like he came with any kind of manual after all, and there isn’t anyone Hajime can go to to ask about these kinds of things. Last time he checked, there weren’t experts on the biological needs of stars advertising their services on the internet. 

“Hajime? You went…away.” Tooru twirls his fingers, gesturing at his face, eyebrows knitting together with concern. 

Hajime shakes his head to clear the fog. “I did? Sorry. I was just wondering. Tooru do stars sleep? Or take a rest? What do you run on exactly?” 

Tooru stretches out lazily, lifting his chin towards the ceiling. “Hmmmm. No…” He draws the word out, thinking about how to explain it to Hajime. “You get time between wishes, but nothing like that.” He pauses for a moment watching Hajime, before adding hastily, “I was very busy though, I had so many wishes to fulfill I didn’t have much time to do anything else.” Hajime doesn’t need to know that none of the wishes keeping Tooru busy were his own to fulfill. He doesn’t need to know about the vast expanses of time he spent longing and waiting for Hajime to wish on him again. “We just kind of…keep going until we die? And we don’t need food the way you do. We’re fueled by the energy of the universe. I have some stored, but I don’t know how long it will last me. He puts a finger to his chin, thinking. “I’m not sure what this new body needs exactly. Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugs, muttering “Thank you gods,” sarcastically under his breath as he blows a wisp of hair out of his eyes. 

“There are star gods?” Hajime blurts out, causing Tooru to look at him like he’s a complete and utter moron. The tips of his ears burn and turn red. 

“Of course there are star gods.” Tooru waves a hand dismissively. “Now that I think about it, they’re probably the ones who sent me here, and no I still have no idea why,” he adds, cutting Hajime off. “This is all boring though, you don’t want to hear about it. Go back to telling me about you.” He folds his legs up again. “It’s far more interesting.” He rests his head against his knees and returns to watching Hajime from behind the curtain of hair falling over his eyes. 

Personally, Hajime thinks that his life as a university student pales in comparison to the life Tooru has left behind, but as Tooru seems reluctant to talk about it, he doesn’t press the matter. “My mom first told me about wishing stars when I was about three. She pointed out one of the brightest stars in the sky and told me it was a wishing star. Apparently, I didn’t want the same star as everyone else, I wanted my very own star.”

“Three year old you sounds like he had the right idea.” Tooru presses his face against his knees, hiding the smile spreading across his face. 

“So I picked out a star, one that would be mine. It wasn’t the brightest of the stars, but for some reason, I wanted that one.” 

Tooru nods as he listens, suddenly filled with a warm and tingling sensation. He digs his knees into his chest, attempting to calm his heart. 

“I got it into my head I needed to do something to repay the star somehow. So I decided I was going to give the star a name, and apparently the name I chose was Tooru. My mom says I threw a birthday party for the star for a few years. It’s silly though isn’t it, wanting to repay a star. You know, you’re probably the reason I’m remembering any of this now, like I said, I forgot years ago.” 

Hajime thinks that Tooru has fallen asleep, until he speaks again. 

“It was very sweet of you. I’m sure the star would have been very happy to hear this, had it known.” There is a sharp twisting of his heart and Tooru can feel something wet in the corner of his eyes, he presses his face closer to his knees, trying to hide Hajime from seeing whatever it is. He is surprised to learn that Hajime had done something like that, just for him, all those years ago. His heart seems to be at war with itself, twisting painfully again because Hajime still doesn’t realize Tooru is that same star, and Tooru can’t bring himself to tell him. At the same time, Tooru can feel a warm and pleasant sensation spreading throughout his body, brought about by Hajime’s act of kindness. He wishes it would make up its mind as it squeezes a third time. 

Tooru doesn’t think he’s ever been thanked before, certainly none of the other stars had ever done anything to thank him for his help. His willingness to help was taken for granted. “It’s not like he’s doing anything, why shouldn’t he help us?” It came to be so expected of him that he would help the other stars with their wishes, that they stopped even asking him, eventually. Suddenly, a question he’d rather not ask creeps into his mind, and just like that the warmth is gone, replaced by something far more cold and sinister, that familiar lonely, empty feeling. “You stopped though…why?” He raises his head back up, eyes meeting Hajime’s even though he knows he doesn’t want to hear the answer. 

“I grew up.” Hajime states bluntly. “It’s weird because everything I wished for came true so I had no reason to stop believing, but eventually, you realize that wishing on stars isn’t what makes things happen. You have to put in the hard work for yourself.” 

Tooru’s chest constricts further and his face contorts, mouth turning downwards, nostrils flaring, as the cold wave envelops him completely. “That’s not true though! Everyone’s working really hard up there! It just gets busy sometimes, so there may be a delay, but everything people wish for gets granted!” He glares at Hajime, an indignant look in his eyes, cheeks tinged with pink. Hajime mistakes the tears in the corners of his eyes for tears of frustration. His voice falters a bit when he speaks again “Is that really what people think?”

“You get told a lot of things when you’re younger. Santa Claus, Easter bunny, wishing stars. The older you get, the harder it is to believe in magic like that. I’m still having a hard time trying to process everything you’ve told me.”

“Being human sounds so sad,” Tooru mutters, shaking his head. “Not being able to believe in anything.” His shoulders slump forward, and he buries his face against his knees, trying to collapse into himself. 

Hajime feels a wave of guilt as he watches Tooru trying to make himself as small as possible. Shit. He should have noticed earlier. “Well yeah, when you put it like that. But it’s not too bad overall. You find the right people, things you love, it’s pretty good. And Tooru, I’m sorry. I guess I was wrong. For thinking that.” 

Tooru is visibly shaking now and it is entirely Hajime’s fault. Hajime can’t even blame him, there’s something to be said for tact. He reaches out, fingers brushing against Tooru’s arm. Tooru lifts his head back up, eyes so void of emotion that Hajime’s gaze immediately shies away. “Hey. I don’t know about you, but I could use some air. I’ll show you around the neighborhood.” He smiles weakly, hoping if they get out of the apartment, Tooru will start to wind down. 

The chill from that morning still hovers in the air, bitingly cold compared to the day before. They have been talking longer than Hajime thought, the sky is now a bruised purple, fading to black, stars just beginning to sprinkle the sky. Hajime walks with his head down, hands thrust in his pockets to stave off the cold. Tooru trails slightly behind him, head continuously turning to look at everything Hajime points out to him. The small shop where he buys groceries from an elderly couple, the library he occasionally goes to instead of the one on campus, the gym he frequents. Tooru mouths all of this to himself, committing it to memory. 

They make their way to the park, and sit on the swings until the last traces of daylight have bled from the sky, Tooru kicking his feet back and forth in the dirt. Neither of them speak, the only sound is the rusty creak of the chains on the swing. Tooru sits on the swing, silently staring up at the stars in the sky as the temperature of the air around them continues to drop. When Tooru finally seems to have calmed down, Hajime decides they can start making their way back, Tooru casting occasional glances up at the stars as they walk. 

It is not until they arrive back at the apartment, that Hajime again remembers he has classes the next day. Tooru is sitting on the couch, watching something on the television while Hajime prepares dinner for himself. “Hey Tooru.” Tooru’s head pops up over the back of the couch, eyes curious. “Tomorrow, I’m going to be gone most of the day. I have classes starting early in the morning.”

“Classes?” Tooru’s head tilts and his face twists in confusion. 

“I’m a university student. It’s kind of like preparation for having a job.” Tooru dips his head in agreement but Hajime can tell he still doesn’t understand. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re going to be here by yourself while I’m gone.”

“Can’t I just come with you?” Tooru’s mouth turns into a pout, eyes pleading. 

“It’s the middle of the school year, and my classes are pretty small. I don’t think I’d be able to bring you to them without getting a lot of questions. Sorry.” Hajime runs his hand through his hair and lowers his eyes, he should have expected this. 

Tooru still doesn’t fully understand what Hajime is talking about, but he understands one thing, Hajime is leaving him. Tooru tries to stop the hurt from spreading across his face before he replies. “Oh. Okay. I understand.” He’s caused Hajime enough worry today already. 

“If I had more time I would have been able to figure something out. But...” Hajime shrugs apologetically. “I’ll show you how to work the tv though, so you can keep yourself entertained while I’m gone.” No response other than a slight nod. He can tell Tooru is upset, but there isn’t much he can do about it. He wonders briefly whether it would in fact be fine to bring Tooru to class with him, but quickly erases that thought. Bringing Tooru to class with him is likely to create more problems than it will solve. 

After he finishes eating, Hajime sprawls out on the couch. Tooru has inched closer to him from the opposite end, and is currently curled up against his side. Everything is fine, Hajime reasons, he’s just worried about Hajime being gone tomorrow. It’s not like Hajime has much choice though, Tooru will have to accept it. Hajime can feel the warmth radiating from Tooru’s body lulling him to sleep. After an hour or so, Hajime stands, stretching. “I’ve got to get up pretty early, so I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you before I leave though. Goodnight Tooru.” Tooru watches Hajime walk to his bedroom silently. When the door closes with a soft click, he stands, opens the door to the balcony, and steps outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't post this last week with all the craziness going on with IwaOi week and all, so sorry for the delay on that end. 
> 
> Hajime is very not perceptive and for that I apologize, believe me when I say this is going to be a very long process for him. He's trying his best though, bless him. This chapter was a bit longer than all the others to begin with and then I wound up adding about 400 more words which makes it even longer. Ah well. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read!
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit)


	6. The Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend now over, Hajime returns to classes while Tooru is left in the apartment on his own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same as always thank you Spaceprincessem and Simokitten

“Hajime. Hajime.” He feels a soft pressure on his cheek,Tooru is poking at him. Maybe if Hajime ignores him, he will go away. “Hajime. Your…your phone is angry at you. I think it’s getting ready to attack. It’s been making that noise for a while.” Tooru pokes at him a bit harder and when that doesn’t work, he takes hold of Hajime’s shoulder and starts shaking him. As the fog of sleep clears from his mind aided by Tooru’s urgent shaking, Hajime can make out the insistent ringing of his phone alarm. He blearily opens his eyes and finds Tooru peering down at him, biting at his lower lip. 

“You have to turn it off,” Hajime tells him, fumbling around for his nightstand with one arm. 

“You want me to _touch_ it?” Tooru asks, voice full of skepticism. 

“It’s not going to do anything.” The ringing continues, louder and more obnoxious. If he hadn’t been awake before, he certainly would be by now. Finally, his fingers brush against the phone. Hajime presses the pulsating alarm icon on the screen and the room falls silent. Tooru’s shoulders are rigid and he watches the phone with suspicion, probably waiting for it to attack. “Nothing to worry about, just my alarm. I set it to wake up at a specific time,” he adds, because Tooru is giving him a blank stare. “You’re going to have to get used to this eventually. This happens every day.”

“Tch.” Tooru rolls his eyes, he doesn’t have to get used to anything. 

“You can pout all you want, it’s not really up to you. Without the alarm, I’d probably miss my classes.” The earlier ones at least, there’s no way he’d wake up to be on campus by eight without the alarm. He waits for Tooru to retort with some kind of smart remark, and when none comes, Hajime lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. He hopes they’re not going to go through this every morning, he doesn’t have the patience or time for it. 

Hajime tosses his phone onto his bed then sets about completing his morning routine. He brushes his teeth, gathers all of his school things into his bag, and changes. Tooru is surprisingly quiet throughout the entire process. Hajime glances at the clock, and decides breakfast will have to wait, trying to ignore the pangs of hunger coursing through his stomach, he’ll grab something on campus. He pulls on a jacket and slings his bag over his shoulder, slipping on his shoes. When he looks up, Tooru is standing next to him, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I’m ready to go to class with you,” he chirps, grinning broadly at Hajime, brown eyes sparkling with excitement. 

Hajime’s hand pauses on the doorknob. He isn’t sure if Tooru’s just feigning ignorance and pretending he didn’t understand their conversation last night, or he actually thinks Hajime has changed his mind and will allow him to tag along. Either way he’s wrong, Hajime is definitely not bringing Tooru with him, he doesn’t need that kind of distraction. He pinches the bridge of his nose, counting to ten before he responds. “I told you yesterday, you can’t come, you have to stay here.” 

There is a plummeting sensation in Tooru’s chest, heart dropping rapidly, but he forces himself to maintain his smile, squeezing his eyes shut so Hajime won’t notice. “Of course! Someone has to stay here and keep an eye on all of your things and make sure they behave! Who knows what your phone has them doing when you are not at home?” To Tooru, his voice sounds high pitched and strained, and there is a flash of heat across his cheeks, burning pink. When enough time passes that he thinks it might be safe, Tooru opens his eyes. Hajime’s brows are raised, his expression quizzical. Tooru grimaces. “Hajime, you were worried you were going to be late, you can’t stand around here looking at me all day.” He gently pushes on Hajime, still smiling, and opens the door. 

Hajime continues to look at Tooru with that same incredulous expression, not budging. Tooru pushes at him again. When he speaks, Hajime’s tone is patronizing, treating Tooru as though he were a child being left unsupervised for the first time. “You know how to work the tv. Don’t leave the apartment. I only have one key. Remember, I’ll be back late.” He’ll have to get Mayu’s key back somehow, he realizes, she hasn’t dropped it off yet. He has the urge to pat Tooru on the head or the shoulder to reassure him everything will be fine, then thinks better of it. 

He is halfway down the hall when a thought crosses his mind and he rushes back, flinging the door open. Tooru is still standing right where Hajime left him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion by Hajime’s sudden reappearance. “Do not. Under any circumstances, touch anything in the kitchen. I don’t need the place to burn down.” He watches Tooru’s face carefully to make sure he understands before rushing off again. 

“I won’t. Have a good day!” Tooru calls, waving after Hajime’s retreating back before closing the door. He presses a shaking hand against his chest, trying to quash the sinking feeling. He can’t explain it, but as soon as Hajime left, Tooru began to feel that familiar cold and lonely feeling. The instant Hajime returned that feeling slipped away, his heart soaring, only to descend again as soon as Hajime disappeared the second time. 

Tooru lets out a slow, trembling breath, he can handle this. He will not touch anything in the kitchen and he will not have to wait that long. He will not even have time to miss Hajime. That last part is a lie. There will be plenty of time for that. Surely late can’t be that far off from now, he tells himself. After all humans have such a poor grasp on time, so Hajime will be back very soon. He stands by the door, waiting for the sound of Hajime’s footsteps coming back down the hall. 

Seconds stretch into minutes and he worries at his lip, pressing his ear to the door. He is ready to hear all about Hajime’s day, he wants to know more about this “school”. Hajime has been gone ages, surely he will be home any minute now. Tooru glances at the clock and lets out a disgusted sigh. Okay, not as much time as he had thought elapsed then. Does time just move slower down here? His knees ache a bit from standing in the same spot, so he tucks his legs underneath himself and drops to the floor to continue his wait. He stares at the door, a small pit of anxiety beginning to form in his stomach. 

Less than an hour has passed. 

He stands up, stretches and paces around the apartment, giving the kitchen a wide berth. Hajime was _very_ serious about him not touching anything in there, so he won’t. As he wanders, he casts furtive glances at the door, waiting for the metallic clicking sound it makes when it is opened. Still nothing. He opens the door to the balcony and steps outside, looking over the edge, to see if he can catch a glimpse of Hajime coming home. There are many people meandering about down there, but no Hajime. He continues to watch, craning over the edge of the railing, hoping for a glimpse of Hajime rounding a corner. 

Tooru leans on the railing, fingers tapping against his face as he bites at his lip. The feeling of dread begins to spread, radiating outwards from his abdomen to his arms and legs. Something bad has to have happened. Otherwise why has Hajime been gone so long? He’s been gone for eons now. Is this what time always feels like to humans? 

Time continues to drag on endlessly, and Tooru is unable to shake this train of thought. His stomach is being torn to shreds, and the cold, sick feeling that something terrible has happened continues to grow, competing with the black hole called loneliness. There is now a dull, throbbing ache coming from Tooru’s heart. He looks up at the sun with disdain before heading back inside.

He grabs a pillow and blanket off the couch and settles down on the floor, resuming his post by the door. If he has to wait much longer, though he knows he won’t, he may as well make himself comfortable. He runs the fuzzy fabric between his fingers as he stares at the door. The sensation relieves his feelings of unease, somewhat. He hugs the pillow against his chest, eyes just barely visible over the top, now full of worry. He continues to sit. And still, there is no sign of Hajime. He stands and pads into the living room, footsteps whispering across the carpet. 

Perhaps if he turns on the “tv” as Hajime suggested it will help to drown out the persistent voice in the back of his head. The one that is now telling him Hajime is never coming back. That Hajime doesn’t go to school at all, he merely wishes to be rid of Tooru. Telling Tooru that he is left here all alone, stuck in this apartment until he burns out. He flops onto the couch, and presses the on button. He sits on the edge of the couch, staring intently at the screen, tapping his fingers against his thigh. 

Watching the tv will be a good learning experience, he thinks. He will probably be able to learn some useful human mannerisms from this. Unfortunately, he cannot get the “remote” to cooperate with him, so he is stuck watching nothing but dramas. The remote must be one of the phone’s minions, this has to be some kind of ploy. He is glad Hajime did not leave the phone here with him. He still doesn’t trust it.

Time drags by less slowly thanks to the distraction provided by the tv, but Hajime still doesn’t come home. Tooru can see the sun sinking lower in the sky, pink streaking through the clouds. He stretches his legs out before him, jumps up from the couch, and heads outside yet again. There are less people outside than there were earlier. He gives a sigh of defeat and watches them hurry past on their way home. Restless fingers drum against the railing as he scans the street. Still no sign of Hajime. 

He stands on the balcony, watching as the last traces of pink fade away and the sky begins to grow dark before it begins to fill with the twinkling of stars. “I’m sure you’re all getting a good laugh out of this. Don’t have to worry about me, sitting around, waiting on something that’s never going to come anymore,” he tells the stars overhead, a trace of bitterness in his voice. “It’s harder being down here,” he adds softly, more to himself than to the other stars, resting his chin against the cool metal, keeping his gaze trained upwards. As expected, there is no response, save their silent mocking. As purple begins to bleed to black, Tooru straightens up when he catches sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. His heart flutters and he smiles. _Hajime._

Hajime walks down the road swiftly but his pace slows as he draws closer to home, relieved to see the apartment building not on fire. He was planning to stay on campus a few hours longer, but he has been unable to focus on any of his classes all day. He was too worried about Tooru destroying the apartment. He knows he told Tooru not to touch anything in the kitchen, but still. Tooru could have gotten curious, turned the oven on, and started a fire. Hell, if he hasn’t annihilated all of the electronics it will be a miracle. If he’s honest with himself, Hajime is less worried about the state of his apartment than he is about Tooru. The crushed look he saw on Tooru’s face when he ran back to lecture him about staying out of the kitchen has been popping in and out of his mind all day. He places his key in the lock and turns the knob, bracing himself for whatever may be on the other side. 

“Welcome home, Iwa-chan!!!” Tooru exclaims, flinging himself onto Hajime as soon as he door opens. 

Hajime is so exhausted and surprised to have Tooru suddenly hanging off of his neck that it takes his brain a minute to register what Tooru just said. He turns around looking for someone else, perhaps a cat that has followed him in that Tooru has befriended, before he realizes with horror that Tooru is in fact referring to him. He drops his bag to the floor and slowly disentangles himself from Tooru. “What did you just call me?”

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru repeats, positively _twinkling_ in Hajime’s direction, brown eyes all wide and earnest, his face the picture of innocence. “You were gone for such a long time, how was your day?” He grabs hold of Hajime’s wrist and drags him inside.

“We’ll get to that, but first, can you tell me where in the hell you came up with that name?”

Tooru points at the television, currently off. “The people on that box were referring to each other by names like that all day.” He continues to smile at Hajime, pleased with himself for coming up with this new name all by himself. He waits for Hajime to praise him for it. 

He’s not wrong, people refer to each other by nicknames all the time. Unfortunately, the name Tooru has chosen sounds like something someone would have referred to Hajime by when he was about five. Hajime is pretty sure he knows the answer to the question he is about to ask, and yet he asks anyway. “Is this really what you plan on calling me?”

Tooru nods enthusiastically. “I had no idea there were so many rules regarding names.” His tone switches to a more solemn one. “You were letting me refer to you so personally.”

Hajime groans and rubs a hand over his face. He does not have the energy to deal with this right now. “Hajime is fine. I wouldn’t have told you to refer to me by my name if I minded that much.” Just about anything is better than being referred to as _Iwa-chan._

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru gasps and clutches a hand to his heart. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scandal now, would we?” He actually flutters his eyelashes at Hajime when he says this. Clearly, Hajime can never allow him to watch television unsupervised ever again. “Besides, it’s cute.” He reaches out and pats Hajime on the cheek.

Again, he has a point, the name certainly is cute. However, at this stage in his life, Hajime would prefer to not be thought of as anything along the lines of “cute”. He wishes that they could just rewind to this morning when he was still Hajime. Hajime is twenty one years old, an adult. And to his dismay and horror, it looks like he is going to have to get used to being known as “Iwa-chan” because Tooru appears to be dead set on it. He hopes he can get Tooru back to calling him by his name before Issei and Takahiro get wind of this or he will never hear the end of it.

Hajime heads to the kitchen and opens the fridge, which is sorely lacking in terms of ready made food. He had meant to cook over the weekend, but that can’t be helped now. Looks like it will be an instant noodles kind of night. He would have stopped by the store or picked up takeout on his way home had he known just how low his food options were. He thinks for a moment then decides to make two bowls, handing one to Tooru, who appears thoroughly confused by this act. 

“Go on, you have to eat at some point, I assume. It’s not much, but for tonight it will do.” 

Hajime is starving and makes quick work of his noodles, while Tooru’s remain untouched. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, but Hajime wonders if the star isn’t feeling well. All the more reason he should eat something, get his energy back up. Then Hajime vaguely recalls something Tooru said the night before. Maybe he’s running low on cosmic energy or whatever it was he said fuels stars. If this is the case, Hajime can just leave him out on the balcony to recharge or however it works while he goes through his notes, right?

Tooru is too worried about Hajime to attempt to eat the food Hajime has given him. He doesn’t seem exactly the same as he did the last few days or even this morning. He is moving more slowly, with less certainty, and talking less. Currently, he is scrutinizing Tooru, and Tooru panics, wondering what he’s doing wrong now. He watches Hajime as he eats, trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. He knows too little about humans to understand that Hajime is simply tired, and there is nothing for him to be worried about. 

“Yeah, I suppose instant noodles wouldn’t be my top choice for my first meal either, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Hajime says with a laugh when he finishes. He puts Tooru’s untouched noodles in the refrigerator. “I’ll take you out to one of my favorite places tomorrow, how’s that sound?”

“One of Iwa-chan’s favorite places? Why can’t we go now?” Tooru leans forward on the table, eyes suddenly full of interest. 

“Because I just ate, and also it’s late. I only have one class tomorrow though, so we’ll have plenty of time then. Besides, I have work that I still have to do.”

“But you were at the school all day, how do you still have work to do?” A slight whine creeps into Tooru’s voice. The cold pit of unease in his stomach, which had almost dissipated, starts to intensify again. 

Hajime wishes he could listen to Tooru and just ignore the logical part of his brain telling him he needs to study, but after losing the entire weekend, he can’t. “Because,” he replies, flicking Tooru lightly on the forehead, “I lost the entire weekend due to an unexpected guest. I wasn’t able to get any studying done like I normally would.”

“So rude, Iwa-chan, it’s not like I _chose_ to come here.” Tooru crosses his arms and sticks his tongue out. 

Surprisingly, Tooru sits in silence while Hajime flips through his notes, occasionally highlighting or scratching something out. Hajime manages to get about thirty minutes of studying done before Tooru starts complaining that he’s bored. He thinks he’s being subtle, but Hajime can see Tooru scooting his chair closer to Hajime from the opposite side of the table when he thinks Hajime isn’t looking, until he is right next to him. He bats his eyes at Hajime in mock astonishment when Hajime calls him out on it. 

It becomes a lot harder to concentrate on studying when Tooru rests his head on Hajime’s shoulder and constantly asks him to define a term, hair whispering across Hajime’s neck as he leans forward to read. Hajime survives about another thirty minutes of this before he stuffs the cap on his highlighter and slams his notebook shut.

“All done now Iwa-chan?” Tooru asks innocently with a self-satisfied look on his face, the bastard.

“How can I possibly be done when you’ve been sitting here distracting me for the last hour?”

“So tense, you don’t need to be looking at things that upset you so much any more today.” 

The fact that this is the fourth or fifth valid argument Tooru has made tonight irritates Hajime, but not nearly as much as the smirk on Tooru’s face when he makes this statement. Hajime accepts the fact that at this point, he’s not going to retain any more information, even if he wanted to. He stands and walks over to the couch, flipping the tv on, fishing for something that will make Tooru shut up before settling on a documentary about Area 51. 

Hajime curls up on his side, already struggling to keep his eyes open, while Tooru settles on the cushion next to him, knees hugging his chest. Hajime’s plan works, and Tooru grows more and more uneasy as the documentary continues. "What do you think they do there?" he asks, Hajime after they’ve been watching for awhile, eyes glued to the screen. 

"Probably a lot of experimentation and probing," Hajime answers bluntly, "I bet they'd be very interested in you," he adds, and what little color Tooru has drains from his face. 

"You...you think so?" Tooru’s voice is barely a whisper, his arm reaching out for Hajime's. 

"Oh yes, absolutely. Doubt they get much opportunity to study stars, not like this anyways. Pretty sure they'd be highly interested to learn you all are actually living organisms. You'd better hope to stay on my good side so I don't turn you over to them." Tooru has gone almost transparent now, and his skin is glowing. Hajime raises an eyebrow and smirks. He unfurls his legs and stands, leaving Tooru on the couch, mouth open wide, fingers still clutching at the air where Hajime’s arm was. 

Tooru calls after him as he walks off. " Iwa-chan? Where are you going? "IWA-CHAN!!!"

"Me? I'm going to bed now. You can do whatever you want." He laughs to himself when he catches a glimpse of the still horrified look on Tooru's face before he closes the door. He probably should have gone easier on Tooru, he muses as he lays down. He’ll apologize in the morning if Tooru is still upset, explain he was only kidding. All the same, he files this information away for potential future use if need be. Hajime is asleep before his head hits the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, Tooru suddenly finds himself left all alone a mere handful of days after landing on Earth. I'm not sure how well I conveyed it, but I was trying to invoke the feeling I used to get when I worked 16+ hour days and came home to find my cats waiting for me in the window. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read, I highly appreciate it. 
> 
> I'm going to try to stick with every other Saturday for updates.
> 
> Come find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit)  
> I drop headcanons, occasional art, and talk about what I'm doing with this sometimes.


	7. (Not a) Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime goes to classs, Tooru spends some time drawing, Hajime gives a brief and awkward synopsis of what constitutes dating and romantic interest, and they go to the library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know the drill

Hajime wakes before his alarm goes off the next morning, glances at his phone to check the time and lets out a frustrated groan. Not quite early enough to warrant going back to sleep. He rolls over anyways, enjoying the warmth of the blankets too much to get up just yet, and is surprised to see Tooru huddled close to him, mouth parted slightly. Maybe he was worried he was going to be carted off by government officials in the middle of the night.“Guess you do sleep after all then,” Hajime muses to himself as he sits up, preemptively shutting off the alarm. This way Tooru won’t have to deal with his nemesis, Hajime’s cell phone this morning.

He goes about his morning routine as quietly as possible so as not to wake Tooru, who most likely needs the rest. Especially if this is truly the first time he’s gotten any. Hajime thought suffering through school until he next year and then working until he’s at least sixty was bad enough, but the thought of having to work continuously until he dies is exhausting. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tooru sleeps all day, or all week for that matter. Hell, Hajime might actually be better able to focus on his schoolwork if he does. It’s a win-win situation. If yesterday is any indication, living with Tooru is going to greatly reduce his ability to study at home. It’s rather difficult to focus with Tooru hanging off of him and continuously asking questions. And that was only the first day, Hajime’s fairly certain it’s only going to get worse. 

Waking before his alarm does have some positives though, Hajime decides. He actually has time to make breakfast this morning, and sits at the table eating, mind wandering as he watches the clouds rolling across the sky. By the time he finishes, there’s still no sign of Tooru. He goes back into his bedroom and finds Tooru has shifted into the space he previously occupied, now sprawled out like a starfish. Hajime reaches out and shakes Tooru’s shoulder softly. There is no response other than the slight rising and falling of Tooru’s chest. Hajime shakes a bit harder, still no response. He contemplates letting Tooru continue to sleep and just heading to class. He could even be nice and leave Tooru a note, letting him know where he’s gone. It’s a perfectly reasonable plan, or it would be if Tooru weren’t a variable. The problem is Hajime has no idea how Tooru will react if he wakes to find the apartment empty.

There’s no choice really, Hajime thinks as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Tooru is not going to be happy about this though. Is he a bit more delighted about what he’s about to do than he should be? Probably. He opens the music app, scrolls down the list, and clicks on a song. As music pours from his phone, Tooru bolts upright, eyes scanning the room until they land on Hajime. “Iwa-chan, what did you do to upset your phone now?” he asks, voice low and muddled with sleep, as he pushes a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Morning sunshine.” Hajime pushes the pause button, smirking a bit. 

“Morning?” Tooru asks, tilting his head, bewilderment spreading over his features. 

“Yes morning. As in the time when the sun comes out and people start going about their day. I’m leaving for class now. Remember? It’s just the one, but it’s longer, so I’ll still be gone for a few hours.” Tooru nods his head, hair tumbling over his sleep fogged eyes. Hajime almost reaches out to brush it away or ruffle it, but then thinks better of it, instead turning towards the door, pausing in the doorframe.” You can go back to sleep if you want, but I figured I’d let you know so you weren’t confused when you got up.” 

“Have a good day Iwa-chan,” Tooru calls after him, fingers clasping at the blankets surrounding him anxiously. Somehow, he has lost time. It was dark when he came in here, but now there are rays of sun peeking through the curtains in Hajime’s bedroom. He has no idea just how much time he has lost which Tooru finds worrying. A few hours, at least. So much precious time...just gone. It’s ironic that he is lamenting the loss of a few short hours, considering how many he has been alive. He is reassured somewhat by the fact that Hajime seems to consider all of this completely normal. 

Tooru untangles his legs from the sheets and stands, yawning as he pulls open the curtains. He winces a bit as the unfiltered sunlight seeps into the room. Normally light doesn’t bother him. A side effect of this sleep, perhaps? He stares out the window for a few moments, watching a few birds as they fly by, chewing at his lip. The apartment is already beginning to fill with the pressing weight of Hajime’s absence. He promised he wouldn’t be gone so long today though, Tooru tells himself as his eyes follow the path of the birds across the sky. He is hesitant to get his hopes up too much regarding how much sooner Hajime will be home though. 

Tooru pads softly through the apartment, hands plucking idly at the fabric of Hajime’s sweatshirt. He glances at the kitchen, wondering if he is allowed to enter it unsupervised. After all, Hajime was so adamant that he not touch anything in there yesterday. “It should be fine, how is Iwa-chan ever going to know? Unless one of you tells him,” he adds side-eying the oven. “Let’s just keep this between us, okay?” He leans against the kitchen counter before he decides he doesn’t like the way the oven is looking at him, so he moves instead to the kotatsu table in the living area. 

He folds his legs neatly underneath him, placing his notebook on the surface. He flips through the pages, their soft rustling filling the space around him, as he searches for a blank space. He grabs one of Hajime’s stray pens, the black ink that flows from it a stark contrast to the shimmering silvery writing on the opposite page. When he finishes writing, Tooru’s fingers deftly trace over the last entry he wrote, the page well worn from the number of times he has done this over the years of silence and waiting. The ink is fading, but he knows the words by heart. A smile ghosts across his face as he traces the letters though his eyes are still sad. He does this several times before shutting the book. 

“It’s so boring without Iwa-chan here,” he mutters to himself, blowing some of his hair out of his eyes. He glances over towards the door, tapping his fingers on the tabletop for a few minutes and then standing back up. Not so soon as Hajime claimed, just as he thought. 

He goes into the second room, eyes flitting quickly over to the pile of textbooks Hajime has left on the desk. Tooru opens the one on the top, flipping through a handful of pages, studying the various diagrams before he closes it. His gaze then lands on the half opened sheath of printer paper. He grabs a handful of pages then heads back to the living room. He spreads the empty pages out in front of him on the table and begins to sketch, pen dancing across the page.

Immersing himself in the images unfolding on the pages spread before him, Tooru no longer feels the seemingly endless passage of time weighing down on him. He fills page after page, unaware as a handful fall to the floor around him. If placed together, rather than being observed individually, the images weave together to form a vast cityscape. It is full of wide, open streets, lined by buildings with high arches, though the architecture doesn’t quite resemble anything on Earth, it’s far too delicate and complex. The city is vaguely familiar, and not at the same time. Home. He is so focused on what he is drawing that he doesn’t hear the sound of the door opening. 

“Tooru?” Hajime’s voice cuts through the apartment, which is oddly silent. He toes off his shoes, moving to the kitchen, bags of groceries dangling from each hand. When he turns back around, he spots Tooru hunched over the kotatsu in the living room, papers scattered around him. Hajime sets the bags down and walks over to him, placing a hand on Tooru’s shoulder. 

Tooru is so engrossed in his drawing that he flinches at the contact. His head snaps up and he turns around, a smile spreading across his face when he registers Hajime’s presence. 

“Iwa-chan, you’re home!” 

“I see you’ve been busy today,” Hajime remarks, gesturing at the papers strewn before Tooru. 

“It’s nothing really,” Tooru responds. “It was just something to do.” A hint of worry creeps into his voice. “Did I touch something I wasn’t supposed to? It’s just… there’s nothing to do when you’re not here, so I just thought...since you won’t let me come to school with you even though I promised I would behave,” his eyes narrow as he stares pointedly at Hajim. ”Besides, it’s not like they’re any good.” He waves his hand dismissively, turning back to look at the pages. 

Hajime bends down and picks up several of the pages, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as he takes in all the intricate linework and shading. “How is this not good?”

Tooru sighs before turning back around and giving Hajime a condescending look. “So silly Iwa-chan, it’s okay if you know nothing about art. I’m sure you’re smart in other ways.” He reaches out and pats Hajime on the shoulder, shaking his head. 

Hajime thumps him on top of the head with the papers. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Iwa-chan, we don’t have time for me to sit here and tell you everything that’s wrong with all of these, not when you’re supposed to be taking me out on a date.” Tooru leans back, watching Hajime. 

The word “date” crashes down around him and spots of red creep into Hajime’s cheeks. “A date? Where would you get an idea like that?” 

“Isn’t that what it’s called when two people go out somewhere together?” Tooru asks, cocking his head expectantly, waiting for Hajime to answer. 

Hajime studies Tooru’s face, trying to determine whether he’s being messed with. There is no sparkle or trace of amusement in his eyes, he’s probably being serious, Hajime thinks. It’s doubtful that after a few short days, Tooru has learned all the nuances of romantic interest and dating, especially considering the only exposure he’s gotten is off of television dramas. Actually, that’s probably more than enough for him to pick up on it, but Hajime still can’t believe he’s about to have this conversation with someone he’s just met, let alone who’s so much older than him. 

It is Hajime’s turn to sigh. “There’s a bit more to it than that.” He rubs a hand along his jaw before he continues. “We’re just going out to get food. It’s more of a hanging out scenario.” Tooru blinks at him, and Hajime has no idea how he is supposed to explain that what happens during and after a date isn’t the same as just spending time with someone. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Dates are for people who are in relationships or who want to be in one. You start dating when you find someone interesting or attractive.” Hajime knows he’s given the bare minimum explanation, but hopefully it’s enough. 

Tooru is completely serious when he responds. “You’re plenty attractive though Iwa-chan. Even though you’ve gone kind of red at the moment.” After he finishes, Tooru lowers his gaze so Hajime can’t see his own face turn a soft pink, pressing a hand against his heart which has sped up yet again, making him feel weak and lightheaded. 

Hajime’s mouth drops open. He gapes at Tooru, then sputters as his ears begin to burn. He’s pretty sure his face must be bright red by now. Forget his earlier thought, nobody is that naive, Tooru has to be messing with him at this point. He can feel a throbbing pressure between his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Tooru frowns at him. 

“Hajime, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, just getting a headache,” Hajime’s fingers massage the spot where the pain seems to be concentrated. 

“I can fix that for you, you know!” Tooru chirps brightly at him, reaching out with one of his fingers. 

“No, no, it’s fine. Should go away on its own.” He continues to massage at the spot. He hopes it will go away on its own anyways. 

Tooru continues to frown at him, and Hajime looks away because it’s unnerving, having those eyes focus all their attention on him. It makes him feel as if Tooru is analyzing him under a microscope. 

“Hmmm, if you say so.” Tooru hums and turns back to the papers strewn about the table. Hajime flicks him on the back of the head. 

“What was that for?” Tooru asks, rubbing at the spot. 

“Don’t give me that look, it wasn’t that hard. Come on, you need to get dressed if we’re going out.”

“What’s wrong with this?” Tooru gestures at the shorts and baggy tee he’s wearing, then scrunches his nose. “You humans are so weird. Why does your wardrobe need to change based on where you are?”

Hajime has no argument against something he’s often wondered about himself, and if Tooru wants to go out in Hajime’s workout clothes, there’s no reason to stop him. Once again though, the thought enters Hajime’s mind that if Tooru’s going to be here for the foreseeable future, they’re going to have to find him some clothes that actually fit him better. “It doesn’t matter, wear whatever you want. It’s a bit early for dinner though, so we can stop by the library first if you want.”   
  
Tooru’s face literally lights up, breaking out in that warm silver glow, and he leaps up from his spot on the floor. He has been pestering Hajime about the library the last two days ever since Hajime poi, but it has been too late for them to go. He grabs Hajime’s hand and drags him towards the door. “Iwa-chan, let’s go.” He draws the word out, tugging on Hajime’s wrist as he says it. “If we don’t hurry they’ll be closed again.” 

They have plenty of time, it is only late afternoon. There is no need to rush, Hajime keeps telling Tooru as he is dragged down the road, garnering the odd stare from passersby. Tooru seems to have memorized the layout of the neighborhood already, or the route to the library at least and they arrive at the small building in record time, Hajime clutching at a stitch in his side. “Knock yourself out,” he pants as Tooru darts off into the books. 

This library building is fascinating. It contains so much information on so many subjects. Tooru weaves among the shelves, running his fingers across the spines of the books, opening some that catch his eyes. He has no idea where he should begin, there are so many. Hopefully there is something here that will give him a better idea of the day to day lives of humans, provide him with insight into some of these weird idiosyncrasies they seem to have. It is quiet here, in this library, but it is a quiet filled with the weight of knowledge. “Iwa-chan,” he calls softly, craning his head trying to figure out where Hajime has gone. His eyes scan over the tops of the bookshelves, but Tooru still doesn’t see him. 

Tooru grabs an armful of books and wanders over to one of the vacant tables, placing them gingerly on the wooden surface. He settles himself into the chair, pausing a moment before shaking his head. No, he will have to do this the normal way, he can already hear Hajime telling him off if he uses his abilities in public. He lets out an exaggerated sigh, this is so inconvenient. If they’re on a time limit, it really would be faster to just absorb the information. He purses his lips and cups his head in one hand, rapidly flipping through the pages of the book with the other. 

When Hajime finds Tooru, he is obscured behind a small mountain of books. “We can’t take all of these with us. Only what I can fit in my bag, remember?” 

Tooru doesn’t look up when he answers. “I know that. I read all of those already.” He gestures at the pile in front of him without lifting his eyes off the page, slamming the book shut and grabbing another one. 

“You...read all of these already? How?” Hajime drops his voice to a whisper. “You didn’t use any of your weird star magic did you?”

Tooru looks up, rolling his eyes, which are far colder than Hajime has seen them. “Of course not. I’ve been reading them your human way, and it’s so tedious.” He rolls his eyes again, and his tone slips into a more playful one. “ But I’ve learned quite a bit now. Some of these have been very enlightening.” He raises his eyebrows, inclining his head towards Hajime. 

“Well hurry up and figure out what you want to check out.” 

Hajime glances at the time on his phone. He would rather not spend the rest of his evening at the library, which is surely what will happen if he doesn’t pull Tooru away now. Tooru nods, handing a couple of books to Hajime before heading back into the stacks, returning with a new armload which he also hands over to Hajime, hovering excitedly by Hajime while they are checked out. 

Tooru insists on carrying Hajime’s bag as they walk to the ramen shop on the corner, rambling disjointedly about what he learned from the books he read. Hajime can feel a low grumble settling into his stomach as they enter the shop, noting the look on the shopowner’s face when he sees Hajime with Tooru and not Mayu. Nothing is said though, it would be rude to comment on Hajime’s change in companion. Hajime mentally kicks himself. He should have known, he used to come here with Mayu all the time. He glances sideways at Tooru, who doesn’t seem to have noticed the way they’re being observed.

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru begins in a hushed tone after several minutes of silence,“I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing here.”

“We’re having dinner. Don’t worry, I can order for you, if you want.” 

Tooru nods hesitantly, looking at the images on the menu. He is still confused by this whole process of “eating” which doesn’t seem like the most efficient means of obtaining energy. There must be something to it though, at least as far as humans are concerned, or they would have either died out or abandoned it long ago. 

Hajime can feel the silent eyes on him and Tooru as they sit. The air becomes oppressive. He stands and grabs hold of Tooru, pulling him towards the exit. 

“Iwa-chan where are we going, I thought we were…” 

Hajime glares at Tooru, warning him to shut up. He doesn’t stop until they are halfway up the street when he feels Tooru digging his feet into the sidewalk. 

“Iwa-chan, I thought you said we were having dinner?” 

Tooru’s face is crumpled into a combination of confusion and hurt. Shit. Hajime’s probably just made him think he’s done something wrong when he hasn’t. He should have known better than to bring Tooru somewhere he and Mayu used to frequent. He can’t explain to Tooru that he didn’t want those people in there judging him for something he hasn’t even done. If the stares had been directly solely at Hajime, it would have been fine, but they weren’t. 

“They were busy, didn’t want to make you wait. It’s a sorry consolation prize, but I’ll cook us dinner.” Hajime smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, hoping Tooru doesn’t see through his lie. 

The shop isn’t busy, but Hajime is clearly unsettled, so Tooru says nothing, berating himself for making Hajime upset. Hajime won’t even tell him what he did, so it has to be something big. He declines when Hajime offers to carry the books, clutching them to his chest. Silence falls between them, each footstep mirroring the thudding of Tooru’s heart. Tooru glances at Hajime occasionally out of the corner of his eye as they walk. Hajime’s eyebrows are drawn low over his eyes, a deep crease between them, his mouth pulled down in a frown. 

When they arrive back at the apartment, Tooru brings the books over to the couch, trying to keep himself as far out of Hajime’s way as possible, lest he upset him further. He is acutely aware of Hajime moving through the kitchen and the scent of whatever Hajime is cooking fills the air. He reads but doesn’t absorb any of the words, until he is aware of a tugging sensation as Hajime pulls the book from his hands. 

Tooru follows Hajime to the table and sits down, unsure of what to do. He stares down at the food in front of him as a cold, sick feeling enters his stomach. He watches Hajime for cues, but can’t bring himself to eat. Hajime smiles sadly at him and Tooru’s heart twists painfully. 

“Tooru, you’ve got to eat sometime.”

Hajime’s fingers wrap around his own, guiding them through the motions of working the chopsticks. Tooru feels a rush of heat across his face. Truthfully, he doesn’t feel this hunger Hajime claims he should be feeling, but Hajime has made all this effort, and is looking at him with so much concern, he feels he has to at least make an attempt. When the first bite of food hits his taste buds, he is overwhelmed by flavor, which is something he has never experienced before. 

“It’s not as good as anything you’ll find at a restaurant, but it’s decent. I think.” 

“Nonsense Iwa-chan, you’re very good at this!” Many years later, Tooru will still claim that this simple bowl of ramen is the best thing he’s ever eaten. He’s still not hungry, so he forces down a couple more bites, but that’s all. He smiles ruefully, wishing he could properly show Hajime his appreciation and how sorry he is. He stares down at the bowl and pushes the noodles around. 

Hajime’s shoulders relax as he smiles at Tooru again. “You’re only saying that because you have no basis for comparison, but thanks Tooru.” When it becomes apparent Tooru isn’t going to eat any more, he begins cleaning up. As soon as he is done, he claims the lingering headache from before as a reason for heading to bed early, leaving Tooru reading alone in the living room. 

Hajime sits on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. It’s not the fact that he misses Mayu that’s bothering him. He’s barely thought of her at all in the past week. Instead it’s the way everyone’s eyes seem to be on him and Tooru whenever they’re out around the neighborhood. There is a silent judgment not only over him being out with someone other than Mayu, but also for the level of familiarity he and Tooru have with each other. They’ve only known each other a few days, and even though they’re not dating, not even close, their interactions make them look more like a couple than he and Mayu had in a long time. People will draw whatever conclusions they want from this and he can deal with it. Tooru however, who has done absolutely nothing is another matter. He doesn’t deserve it. Hajime wishes he could just make all of it go away, because everything seemed so much less complicated a week ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to give you all two updates today, holiday bonus, I guess? Hope you all enjoyed your holiday!
> 
> Poor Tooru, who is going to be pining for quite some time. When I said slow burn, I meant it. Hajime is oblivious, but he is also a good guy. 
> 
> I am incredibly excited for the next chapter by the way, the first half-ish of it is I think my favorite thing I've written so far for this, other than the prologue. 
> 
> Once again, thank you for takin the time to read, and hopefully we will be good and I will have it up for you in two weeks. 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit)


	8. Sehnsucht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehnsucht (n), German  
> an internal, painful longing for someone or something

Wednesday is yet another day full of hours that stretch on endlessly, with Tooru watching the sun sink lower in the sky as he waits for Hajime to return from his classes. Once again Hajime returns home too exhausted to do anything other than throw himself into bed, barely responsive to anything Tooru says to him. Thursday morning comes too soon, Hajime dragging himself awake and leaving with a mumbled “be back later” in Tooru’s direction. Tooru watches Hajime leave silently from his perch on the couch.

It is another one of Hajime’s alleged long class days, so Tooru is left to his own devices once more. There’s only so much he can do to keep himself entertained however, when he is confined to such a small space. Hajime’s apartment is very small indeed, in comparison to the vast expanse of space and the constellation he used to call home. It’s not the size that bothers him so much, it’s more that everything in the apartment is so evidently Hajime’s, which means that even now, when Hajime is very definitively not here, he is all Tooru finds himself thinking about. His absence fills the apartment, pressing in on Tooru from all sides, crushing him like the gravity he’s still not quite used to. If Tooru spends one more day stuck here by himself, he knows he is going to snap.

Currently, Tooru is laying upside down, hanging half off the couch, kicking his legs against the back, as he blows the hair out of his eyes. He lost track of how long he’s been doing this, hair floating upwards and then drifting back down to obscure his field of vision once more. He lets out a final huff of air and flips himself over and upright in a single fluid motion, glancing out the window. “Can’t you move any faster?” he urges the sun, hanging in what appears to be the same position it was the last time he checked. Tooru is pretty sure the sun is mocking him, moving more slowly on purpose. He has done nothing to deserve this. 

As time passes, the sky transitions from grey to a bruised purple. Inky black clouds begin to gather and hang low, threatening to burst at any moment. Stars faintly dot the sky, their glow washed out until the last remnants of daylight slip away, when they can compete with the light of the streetlamps. Tooru paces the balcony, occasionally stretching out over the railing to search the street below which is oddly empty, no evidence of life. Tooru’s eyes scan the growing darkness, finding no sign of Hajime. The air around him grows heavier, the clouds ominous. He casts one last glance down onto the street, affirming his decision. He knows he has been told to stay put, but it’s time to do something about this. No more waiting. He steps back inside the apartment and rotates the lock on the door, hand hesitating and hovering over the doorknob before he turns it, the door shutting softly behind him.

★★★★★

Hajime’s brain has already gone into tunnel vision mode, more focused on the weekend than the fact that he does in fact, still have to suffer through one class the next day. He is looking forward to finally being at home and doing nothing more than existing on his couch. It’s a good night for it, if the looming storm clouds overhead are any indication. The nearer he draws to his apartment, the more Hajime can’t seem to shake the growing feeling that something isn’t quite right. He can probably attribute it to the weather, after all Tooru is at home, what could possibly be wrong? He stops in his tracks. 

_Tooru_.

Hajime takes off, feet pounding against the pavement as the first drops of rain fall lazily out of the sky. He lucks out, reaching the entrance to his apartment building before the storm truly breaks. His hand hovers in front of the doorknob for a moment before inserting the key. There is no resistance, no turning of the lock, instead the key turns easily. Hajime frowns and pushes the door open. He is greeted by darkness and a looming silence, a cold unease lurking behind him, pressing against his back as he flips the light switch

He tentatively calls out. “Tooru?” 

As fluorescent light fills the apartment, there is no sign of movement. If anything the apartment seems even more still than it did before Hajime turned the light switch on. The uneasy feeling increases, sending shivers of dread down his spine. There is no sign of a struggle, which must mean that Tooru has left of his own accord. This should be a source of relief, but instead the frown on Hajime’s face deepens, eyes growing clouded and stormy as a crease forms between them. There is no note, no nothing, and Hajime has no idea where Tooru could have possibly gone, or how long ago he left. 

Hajime drops his bag by the couch before sweeping through the apartment, searching for any kind of indication of where Tooru may have gone and finding none. He needs to calm down. Think. He should wait a bit before he rushes out, after all, Tooru may come back on his own. The pit of dread in his stomach tells him that this is wishful thinking. There is also the threat of the storm to worry about. He sits down on the couch, glancing over at the door every so often. Half an hour or so passes, and still no sign of Tooru. Hajime stands back up and wanders over to the window, unable to make out anything other than the faint outline of trees. Lightning flashes, followed by the low rumble of thunder. Within seconds, the tinny sound of heavy sheets of rain pouring down follows. 

“Of fucking course,” Hajime grumbles, scornfully rolling his eyes towards the ceiling as he pulls on a jacket and grabs his umbrella. 

★★★★★

Tooru stands at the edge of the lake, wind howling around him as rain batters down onto his upturned face. The storm clouds have spread, swallowing the sky so that the stars are no longer visible, though Tooru knows they’re there.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it, that I would be down here, turning to you guys for help?” He reaches up and wipes a lock of hair out of his eyes. “Remember though, you owe me. After everything I’ve done for you, you _owe_ me.” He tosses his head and squares his shoulders, bracing himself against the wind before continuing. “I doubt the reason I was sent here was to sit around in Hajime’s apartment all day, so what I want is simple really.” His voice wavers, there is a hint of desperation and pleading to it. “You make it so that I can go to this...this university too. That way I can do something productive. Be of more use to him. Besides. It’s so lonely when he’s not there.” He presses a hand against his chest, at the sudden tightness he feels there. His gaze remains focused upwards as he waits for a response. The rain pounds down harder around him.  
  
“TOORU!” 

Mechanically, Tooru turns his head at the sound of his name. Just barely through the sheets of rain assaulting the earth, he can make out Hajime, still a ways off, doubled over and clutching at his side. 

“Hajime?” The word is lost, torn away by the aggressive wind. Tooru tries again, yelling to be heard over the rain and wind. “Hajime, what are you doing here? You’re all...wet.” 

The word wet is an understatement. Cold rain water has seeped into his shoes and clothes, numbing his limbs. There is not a single part of Hajime that feels dry or warm. If Hajime is wet, then Tooru, whose hair is plastered to his head, clothes clinging tightly to him, is soaked.

  
“Me?” Hajime yells back. “I’ve been looking all over for you! How long have you been out here?” The words come out shaky, Hajime’s teeth chattering behind lips that feel like they are beginning to freeze. Lightning crashes again and Hajime hugs his arms to his chest. “Forget that, what are you doing out here?” 

Tooru’s eyes slide away from Hajime and back up to the sky. “I was trying to see if I could get a favor,” he states, a dreamlike quality to his voice. 

“A favor for what?” Tooru says something, but his words are drowned out by the sound of the rain and another clap of thunder. Hajime is yelling, trying to make himself heard over the sound of the rain. His shoes squelch in the mud, filling with more freezing rainwater as he walks towards Tooru. He reaches out and grabs hold of one of Tooru’s wrists, shivering. “Can we please go home and you explain there?” Warmth begins to radiate up his arm from where his fingers grip Tooru’s wrist. 

“But I still don’t know if it worked yet,” Tooru begins, indignant, still speaking in that far away voice. His eyes are so blue they’re almost black. “You’re shaking,” he adds as he becomes aware of the firm pressure of Hajime’s fingers against his wrist. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Hajime retorts from behind clenched teeth. “Tooru, _please_. Let’s go home, okay?” 

Tooru nods, but casts one last look up at the sky mouthing “you owe me” again before allowing himself to be led away by Hajime. Hajime slides his fingers down so they are no longer around Tooru’s wrist, but interlaced with his fingers. He has already started to regain feeling in them, a benefit to the fact that Tooru is basically a walking space heater. Hajime’s body, which has long since grown numb, gradually warms up as they trudge their way back home. 

“Alright. Can you please explain to me what you were doing out there in the rain?” Hajime asks, throwing a towel at Tooru’s head. Hajime finishes drying his own hair off, staring expectantly at Tooru and the puddle gathering around him on the couch. They have both changed out of their clothes, which are now slowly filling up the tub in Hajime’s bathroom. “I told you to stay here. So please, explain to me what was _so important_ that you ran off in the middle of a storm. Don’t you realize how dangerous that was?” Thunder claps again, further emphasizing his point. The words come out clipped and biting. Hajime is exhausted, making no effort to hide his frustration. 

Letting out a sad huff, Tooru brushes his hair away from his eyes. “I told you already. I was trying to see if I could get payment on some favors.”

Tooru can be annoyingly cagey when he wants to be, Hajime has learned, and right now Hajime isn’t in the mood to deal with anything other than straightforward and to the point. The sooner they arrive at the point, the sooner Hajime can go to bed, and hopefully stave off the cold he’s likely going to wind up with. 

“You’re going to have to elaborate more than that, because honestly I’m not buying it.” He crosses his arms over his chest as a vein in his forehead begins to throb. “You’re such a hassle, I should have just left you out there, I don’t even know why I went looking for you.”

Tooru flinches as the words leave Hajime’s mouth, eyes flying open before narrowing into slits, pink spots appearing on his cheeks. “I was making a wish! I was _trying_ to see if there was a way I could go to this…school of yours!” The spots on his cheeks darken, a fevered red against the otherwise pale skin. When he speaks again, his voice is ice cold. “Believe it or not Hajime, spending all of my time sitting around in your apartment while you’re off doing…whatever you do there isn’t my idea of fun! You told me I have to stay here, and I have, but you know what? I can’t just sit here day after day doing _nothing_ . It’s _boring.”_ He glares at Hajime before adding “I _hate_ it,” as his voice breaks. Tooru lowers his head. “I hate it,” he repeats before he returns to fiddling with the fabric of Hajime’s sweatshirt. “Maybe you should have left me out there,” he whispers.

There is a stagnant pause in the air, punctuated only by the faint sounds of dripping coming from the bathroom. Hajime sighs and crosses the room before sitting down next to Tooru. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Tooru lifts his head and Hajime quickly looks away, afraid he may get lost and drown in the depths of Tooru’s eyes. “I may have just been worried about you.” He picks up the towel, which Tooru still hasn’t touched, and begins to gently rub Tooru’s hair dry. He can feel the heat pulsating off of Tooru in gentle waves. Just sitting next to Tooru has warmed him up more than either the bath or the change of clothes. It’s not fair, Hajime thinks, that Tooru never has to worry about being cold. “You weren’t here when I got home, and I thought, maybe something had happened to you.”

Tooru pokes his head out from underneath the towel, wide eyes fixated on Hajime. “You were worried about me?” He feels very small, vulnerable, and exposed. 

“Maybe. Just the tiniest bit.” Hajime rubs the towel against Tooru’s head a few more times. “There, you should be all dry now. Or close enough anyways.” He sets the towel down and marvels at the fact that Tooru’s hair looks even fluffier than usual. He also wonders what it would feel like to run his fingers through it, almost does, then stops himself. Instead, he flicks Tooru in the middle of the forehead. “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t really thinking of your needs. But next time, just wait for me, okay?” Tooru hums in agreement, and then without warning, pulls Hajime close to him. Hajime lets out a startled gasp. “What are you doing?”

“You’re still cold,” Tooru replies softly, pulling Hajime closer still. Hajime can feel the beating of Tooru’s heart against his chest. “I’m warming you up.” The familiar warmth spreads throughout his body, and Hajime nods, suddenly overcome by the exhaustion, or perhaps the adrenaline has finally died off. He can feel his eyelids growing heavy as his body relaxes against Tooru’s. 

★★★★★

“Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan. _Iwa-chan_.” 

Something is poking his face repeatedly, andon reflex Hajime reaches out to swat it away, resulting in a yelp. 

“What did you do that for? It’s time to wake up!” When Hajime cracks his eyes open, he is greeted by Tooru’s cheerfully smiling face. 

“ ‘s my alarm going off,” Hajime mumbles into his pillow, not making any move to actually get up. 

“No,” Tooru replies, bouncing in place enthusiastically, “But you have to get up!” 

It is still dark inside the apartment, which means Hajime does not, in fact, have to get up at this moment in time. “Campus isn’t even open yet. Needs to be light out. Lemme go back to sleep.”

Tooru sighs, but doesn’t argue, sitting back down to wait not so patiently for Hajime to deem it an acceptable hour to be awake. He has already been outside several times since last night, repeating his wish, silently pleading with the other stars. He watches the first pink slivers of morning light pierce through the sky, and Hajime still doesn’t wake up. He heads back inside, and sits down on the opposite end of the couch, tucking his legs up to his chest as he waits. When it is what Tooru considers bright enough for Hajime to be awake, he reaches out shaking Hajime lightly. 

“Iwa-chan, _now_ it’s time to wake up.”

Hajime lets out a groan. There is indeed light filtering through the apartment, but only just. He accepts the fact that Tooru isn’t going to allow him to sleep any longer though, and pushes himself upright. There is a stiff spot in his back, but he supposes that’s what he gets for falling asleep on the couch. “Alright. I’m up. No, we’re not leaving yet,” he adds, eying the excited look on Tooru’s face. “We have plenty of time before my class, but that does not mean we are leaving now.” He drags out his morning routine for as long as possible, taking more delight in watching the way Tooru squirms with impatience than he probably should, but it serves him right.

“You don’t have to finish that here, you can drink that as we go!” Tooru exclaims, tired of waiting, as he snatches Hajime’s mug of tea away from him.

“I don’t know why you’re so ready to be in school,” Hajime replies with a sniffle. There is a slight congestion that has settled in his nose, but he feels far better than he expected to this morning. Inconvenient though it may be, he’ll take being a little sniffly over being bedridden. That he’s not as sick as he should be probably has something to do with Tooru. “Besides we don’t even know if this worked, you can’t just drop into university in the middle of the school year and expect everything to be fine. You don’t even have any kind of identification. Don’t get your hopes up too much.” His words fall on deaf ears however, as Tooru for lack of a better word, skips alongside him. 

“You worry too much! I told you they all owe me _many_ favors.” Tooru’s voice is sticky sweet, and oozing with certainty. 

"What exactly do all these other stars owe you so many favors for then?”

“I’ve done a lot of things for them! I was very busy and I still took time out of my schedule to help them out and make sure that they got all their wishes taken care of!” To his own ears, Tooru’s voice sounds forced, but he plasters on a smile and beams at Hajime, who doesn’t seem to have noticed. He tugs on Hajime’s arm eagerly, dragging him forward. 

“If you say so. Can you please tone it down? You have far too much energy, stop trying to pull my arm out of its socket, you don’t even know where we’re going.”

Tooru stops abruptly, causing Hajime to crash into his back. “Silly Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, turning around, waving a finger in Hajime’s face. “We’re going to the administration building.”

“Oh? And you know exactly where this is, do you?” Hajime raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest, smirking when Tooru is unable to provide an answer. “I didn’t think so. Now just calm down and follow me.”

They arrive at the admin building shortly after it opens, which unfortunately means that they don’t have to wait very long before they’re seen by one of the admissions staff members. They should have thought about their story more, if it can even be considered much of a story. Tooru has continued to insist that everything will be fine, and the more he repeats it, the less Hajime believes him.

“Iwaizumi?”

“Well here goes nothing,” Hajime mutters under his breath, pulling Tooru out of the chair next to him. “Let me do the talking,” he adds just before they set foot into the office. 

“So what brings you in today?” The administrator asks, peering at them over the top of her computer. 

Already picturing how this whole thing is going to turn out, Hajime can feel his face flush. Tooru meanwhile, is radiating positivity, and looks like he’s on the world’s greatest field trip. So long as he does as they agreed and doesn’t say anything, maybe, just maybe, they can pull this off. 

“This is…” Hajime’s brain blanks as he realizes they never even thought about the fact that Tooru is going to need a family name. He blurts out the first name that comes to mind, which happens to be that of his next door neighbors. “Oikawa. Oikawa Tooru. He’s transferring in?”

“Oikawa….” The office is silent aside from the clacking of the keys on the keyboard. A lump begins rising in Hajime’s throat and his palms begin to sweat. He knows there isn’t going to be anything in the files, they’re about to be thrown out for wasting time. “Ah yes, here you are. It’s unusual to have anyone transfer in the middle of the term, but it looks like all of your credits are in order. Additionally, you have glowing recommendations from your former university.”

Hajime’s mouth drops open and he can _feel_ the smug expression forming on Tooru’s face. Without turning to look at him, Hajime kicks out at Tooru from underneath his chair.

“Ow!” Tooru swivels and faces Hajime, opening his mouth to protest before Hajime jerks his head toward the administrator, shutting him up. 

“Shh,” Hajime hisses under his breath, earning both of them a glare from over the top of the computer screen.

“You can start your courses on Monday, the professors should already be aware of your situation. Iwaizumi here can show you where the art building is.” She pauses arching a neatly penciled eyebrow. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“No. It won’t be a problem at all, I can show him,” Hajime manages to choke out before hurrying out of the office, dragging Tooru with him.

When they are outside of the administration building, Hajime breathes a huge sigh of relief, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“See, I told you!” Tooru crows, beaming at Hajime. “Why did you kick me in there?”

“To prevent you from saying something stupid like you knew everything was going to be fine because you asked the stars.” Tooru glowers at him and opens his mouth to say something, but Hajime cuts him off. “Yes, _I_ know that’s what happened but you can’t just go and say something like that to most people, they’ll think we’re unstable, you’ll get us locked up.”

Tooru reaches out, fingers clutching for Hajime’s arm. His tone is so hushed Hajime barely hears him when he asks “By the government?” 

“Yeah, but not the same ones you’re thinking of.” Hajime kicks his shoe against the sidewalk. “You can’t tell anyone what you are, you understand that right?” He sniffles before continuing. “You are a normal, university student okay?” He gives Tooru a onceover. “Well maybe not so normal, but you’ll fit in perfectly fine with the art students, probably.”

“I am a _very_ fast learner Iwa-chan, it’s not like this is hard. You ought to believe in me more.” Tooru emphasizes his point by jabbing a finger into Hajime’s chest. “Are you going to show me to the art building now?”

Hajime looks at his phone and makes a clicking sound, his Kinesiology lecture is in a little under an hour. If the buildings were on the same part of campus, which they aren’t, he would probably have time to show Tooru around. Not that he knows where anything is, other than the building itself. Which is on the complete opposite end of campus from where he’s headed. He may be able to pawn Tooru off on one of the art students though, and maybe they can show him around. If they hurry. 

He grabs Tooru’s hand and begins pulling him in the direction of the art building. Other students with early morning classes are starting to mill about on campus, and Hajime can feel the eyes of some of them on him and Tooru. “Iwa-chan, slow down, I can’t see where we’re going!” Tooru’s voice whines from behind him. Hajime slows his pace down, but not by much. 

When they arrive at the art building, Tooru hesitates to actually enter, instead pretending to examine the exterior in awe. 

“I have to get back across campus for my lecture. Will you be alright?” Hajime asks him, and though Tooru nods, Hajime can see the hesitation behind the gesture. “Excuse me,” Hajime calls out, stopping a boy with wildly disheveled hair and a rather large camera bag hanging off his shoulder getting ready to enter the building. “This is Oikawa Tooru. He’s going to be joining the art department, do you mind showing him around? I’ve got to get to a lecture across campus.” The boys shrugs which Hajime assumes means it’s fine. “I’ll come find you when I’m done,” Hajime tells Tooru, who although he looks reluctant to see Hajime leave, nods again. 

Nervous, Tooru casts a backwards glance over his shoulder before following the boy inside, watching Hajime’s swiftly retreating back.

“Ah, don’t worry, you’re relatively safe with me,” the boy says, slinging an arm around Tooru’s shoulders. “Kuroo Tetsurou,” he adds, mouth curling into a lazy smile. “I was on my way to the dark room because I wanted to get these prints set up before my lab, but ah well. Best laid plans and all that.” 

Tooru allows himself to be steered through the winding hallways, as Tetsurou points out the various studios and classrooms to him. “You may have a bit of a hard time finding a spot to call your own, a lot of these guys are very territorial and moody when it comes to their art space. And since they’ve been here a few years now, they’re pretty set with their ways. Well you know how it is, I’m sure it was the same where you came from.” He shrugs, pushing open a door to the stairwell.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Where’s your home here?”

Tetsturou cocks an eyebrow. “My home eh…I’m a basement dweller.” He gestures at the large camera bag hanging off of his shoulder. There’s only three of us doing photography, so we all have our own darkroom. We’re pretty isolated down there. Nobody else really messes with us. But,” he pauses and grins at Tooru again, “if anyone gives you any trouble, just let me know. Everyone thinks I’m a bit mental, and they’re probably right. I still have no idea what I was thinking, majoring in photography and Micro.” He stops in front of a door, shoving a key in the lock. “I can give you a quick look, but I really do have to get to lab soon.” He motions Tooru inside, and drops his camera bag on a table.

“These are all yours?” Tooru asks as his eyes sweep over a row of photographs dangling off a thin line stretching across the room. 

“You like?” Tetsurou leans back and stretches, hands behind his head. “They’re not anything for class, not at the moment anyways. Just a personal project of mine, playing with some new exposure techniques. Still not turning out quite the way I was hoping they would. I would get into all the details about it, but that’d take more time than I have currently. Another time perhaps.” He ushers Tooru out of the darkroom, locking the door behind them before hurrying down the hallway and back up the steps, Tooru following behind him. 

“Thank you for showing me around, sorry for taking up so much of your time,” Tooru says once they are back outside, squinting as his eyes adjust to the light.

“It’s no worries. Well good luck with everything, and let me know if you need anything, you know where to find me now. I’ll see you around.” Giving a lazy wave, Tetsurou turns and heads off in the direction opposite the one Hajime had headed in earlier.

Tooru sits on the railing outside the building kicking his feet, watching other students pass by. He closes his eyes, soaking up the warmth of the sun as he waits. 

“Hope you weren’t waiting too long for me.”

Tooru’s eyes open and his head whips around at the sound of the familiar voice, breaking out in a dazzling smile. “Iwa-chan!” he cries out, pushing himself off the railing and rushing forward, his hair glinting with a coppery glow as it catches the sun’s rays. He stops just in front of Hajime, still smiling.

“How is it? You have a good idea of where everything is now?”

“Yeah, Tetsu showed me!” Tooru bounces on the balls of his feet excitedly. “They have some general supplies I can use, but eventually, I’ll need to get my own.” His smile falters while he waits for Hajime to respond, nibbling at his lip. 

“Hmmm...You’re getting to be awfully expensive, you know that? Do you think your gods can provide me with some more money to compensate?”

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru’s mouth drops open in shock and he punches Hajime in the arm. “I dunno though, can’t hurt to ask,” he adds in a hushed tone, winking conspiratorially.

As they walk to the station, Tooru continues to chatter excitedly, loosely hanging onto Hajime’s wrist. Hajime stops suddenly when he is struck with another realization. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re...going to have to get you some new clothes,” Hajime replies at last, looking Tooru up and down. If Tooru is going to be a student here, he should probably have clothes that actually fit him. The shirts are fine, but Tooru is a good bit taller than Hajime, and more slender. Hajime’s clothing has been fine up to this point, but surely he’ll be more comfortable in something more suited to him. 

“We are?” Tooru asks, forehead scrunching as he looks down at the clothes he is currently wearing trying to figure out what’s wrong with them. 

“Yeah, we’ll have to find something that fits you better, you can’t wear my clothes forever.” 

“Oh.” Tooru rubs his thumb along the cuff of the sweatshirt. He doesn’t mind wearing Hajime’s clothing. He likes it, actually, they make him feel comfortable and safe. Oh. Inconsiderate of him. Hajime probably doesn’t want Tooru using up all of his clothes, possibly ruining them. Inconsiderate, the voice in the back of his head whispers again. 

A tug on Hajime’s wrist indicates that they should start walking again. Tooru carries on, describing the various studio rooms and Tetsurou’s darkroom. The sun sends ripples of red and gold flowing through Tooru’s hair and Hajime allows himself to be lost in the warm sound of Tooru’s voice, his enthusiasm is infectious. Blissfully absorbed in his emotions and the fact that the stars have answered his wish, Tooru tilts his head skywards, mouthing a silent “thank you” at the sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said last time, the first part of this chapter is one of my favorite things I've written for this work so far. The way the parts were broken down, this turned into a really long chapter compared to everything else because if I split it in two, that first part would have been a really short chapter. 
> 
> This is a bit of a turning point for Tooru, and honestly I couldn't just have him sitting around forever. Did I decide to make him an art major for the sheer purpose of I really like the idea of him being covered in flecks of paint? Yes I did. 
> 
> I was originally planning on just having some nameless art student show Tooru around, but then my mind kept thinking, "But what if Kuroo"? And he shows up a decent amount more, so better to actually have someone concrete. Besides, I will fight for OiKuroo friendship things because I just think their dynamic is great. 
> 
> To everyone who takes the time to read thank you as always, and to moon_island, thank you for always taking the time to comment on every chapter, I truly appreciate it, you're the reason I keep doing this. 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit) where I spout off a lot of fluffy headcanons, and also talk about writing this sometimes, which recently is a lot of lamenting over what an idiot Hajime is.


	9. Shopping Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shopping outing for Tooru and Hajime, a bit of dressing room flirtation

Not now nor ever really, does Hajime think he has been the most knowledgeable when it comes to fashion. His clothing is most often chosen based on necessity and comfort rather than how it looks on him. As a result his wardrobe consists of varying degrees of athletic wear, loose fitting jeans, tees, and a handful of hoodies. The height of his fashion knowledge is that a small handful of people have told him he should wear more green because it brings out his eyes. So why he actually thought he would be able to help pick out an entire wardrobe for Tooru is beyond him. A choice he’s sure he will come to regret. 

The previous night, Tooru dragged Hajime out onto the balcony and pointed up at the stars, telling him that if he wanted to ask something of the star gods he at least needed to do it properly. Hajime’s resulting eye roll had earned him a whack upside his head. 

“Apologies for him being so rude,” Tooru told the night sky before turning to Hajime and hissing “Iwa-chan, make your wish and do it properly,” out of the corner of his mouth. Hajime heaved a huge sigh, but figured it probably wouldn’t be in his best interests to piss off the star gods, so he should probably play along. It certainly couldn’t hurt at least. Focusing on one of the brightest stars in the sky, Hajime silently wished for more money. 

After a week of living with Tooru, Hajime is less skeptical about the wish granting ability of stars, but for something as big as what he wished for last night, he’s not expecting much. Or anything really. Which is why his mouth drops open when he sees the large sum of money deposited into his bank account overnight. He also promptly drops his phone in shock. The star gods work really fast and apparently, they’re incredibly generous. Either that or the other stars really do owe Tooru as much as he claims. A combination of the two is also a possibility. Whatever forces are responsible, money is certainly not something Hajime will have to worry about for a very long time. 

“See Iwa-chan, I told you if you just wished for it, it would happen.” Tooru’s tone is complacent, an “I told you so” smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

It is far too early in the morning for this level of smugness and pep. In an extreme measure of self control, Hajime does not punch Tooru in the face. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. No need to gloat.” 

Chin resting on Hajime’s shoulder, Tooru peers at the phone and lets out a low whistle. He does this less because he understands about money as a concept, and more because he has judged this an appropriate response based on Hajime’s reaction. 

“Aren’t you going to thank them? You know what, you should probably thank me too while you’re at it…” 

Already knowing the direction this statement is headed, Hajime places his hand over Tooru’s mouth, cutting him off. “It is a lot of money, so I suppose you’re right. I should probably thank them.” Hajime makes a little bow in the direction of the sun, unsure of whether there’s some sort of protocol he should be following for this sort of thing. Probably not because if there were, Tooru would instruct him, lest he get reprimanded. He can feel Tooru brimming with anticipation beside him, waiting for Hajime to praise him too. When Hajime fails to do so, Tooru gently nudges at him with his foot. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point. Thank you Tooru.” He suppresses the smile teasing at his own mouth and taps his knuckles against Tooru’s forehead. 

The resulting smile spreading across Tooru’s face is so dazzling and brilliant that it rivals the sun. 

Clothes shopping turns out to be even more draining an experience than Hajime anticipated, which is saying something because he was expecting the worst. “Don’t get too carried away,” Hajime calls after Tooru, who is already going through the clothes with delighted fascination, thumbing across the fabrics, excitement spreading across his face as he takes in all the different colors and textures. 

“Iwa-chan, feel how soft this is!” Tooru exclaims as he thrusts a sweater into Hajime’s face, positively beaming at him. Taking the sweater from Tooru’s hands, Hajime has to admit that it is indeed, incredibly soft. It feels the way Hajime imagines a cloud might, and he wonders what exactly it’s made out of. As he contemplates this, Tooru rips the sweater from his hands and darts back into the racks, leaving Hajime holding nothing but air. 

They quickly accumulate a small mountain’s worth of various pants and tops. Tooru is still browsing. Hajime has no idea what more he could possibly think he needs. He eyes the still growing mountain, hoping Tooru is satisfied soon. Already, it feels like they’ve been in the store for hours. 

Hajime is left with the unpleasant task of babysitting the clothes while Tooru tries things on, occasionally stepping out to ask Hajime his opinion. The problem with this, Hajime realizes quickly, is that absolutely _everything_ looks good on Tooru, as if each article of clothing were tailored specifically to fit his body. Which Hajime tells him repeatedly. Not in those specific words. Naturally he opts for the standard male response of “you look fine.” 

“How am I supposed to know if I’m doing this right and that I look okay when you keep saying the same thing?” Tooru frowns at himself in the floor length mirror, tilting his head. 

The pants he is wearing are tighter and more vibrant than anything Hajime would ever wear or pick out for himself, but on Tooru they work, accentuating how long and gazelle-like his legs are while simultaneously showing off the curvature of their muscles. When Hajime doesn’t respond, Tooru picks idly at the collar of the shirt he is wearing and purses his lips, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows. 

Feeling a migraine coming on, Hajime pinches the bridge of his nose. This is part of why he’s always hated clothes shopping, or at least shopping for clothes with other people. He dreads telling the person asking him for his opinion the wrong thing. “I told you, it’s not anything I would wear, but it looks fine. Very acceptable young adult human male.” He returns his attention to his phone with a shrug. 

Tooru spins around sharply. “If you wouldn’t wear any of this, there must be something wrong with it!” he squawks, jutting his chin out like a petulant child. “Are you _trying_ to sabotage me?” His eyes narrow and he glowers at Hajime as a pale pink dusts across his cheeks. 

Hajime casts a backward glance over his shoulder, looking for other shoppers or a salesperson coming to check on them. They are fortunate enough to be the only ones in the dressing room at present, but if Tooru keeps carrying on at this volume, someone is bound to hear him. “Keep your voice down. People have different tastes in clothing, that’s all. Believe it or not, I am not the highest authority on fashion. Besides, none of that would look good on me anyways,” he adds with another shrug, causing Tooru’s eyebrows to shoot up and mouth to drop open.

“Hajime Iwaizume, that is not true! I refuse to believe that! You would look very good in any of this!” The last statement slips out of Tooru’s mouth completely unbidden. He places his hands on his hips, the spots on his cheeks turning a deep red in combined indignation and embarrassment. 

More worried about Tooru’s sudden increase in volume than anything else, Hajime doesn’t seem to notice. Once again, his head turns towards the entrance to the dressing room. Miraculously, no one seems to have heard Tooru’s outburst. He suppresses the urge to congratulate Tooru on finally mastering the pronunciation of his last name, it’s sure to upset him further. Instead, he raises his hands up to quiet Tooru, words he knows he will regret spilling from his mouth. “If I put on something from all of this,” he gestures at the chaotic pile of clothes, “will you be satisfied?” Tooru nods enthusiastically. “I am going to make this perfectly clear,” he adds, picking his words slowly and deliberately when he notices the mischievous gleam in Tooru’s eye. “I am NOT wearing turquoise pants.” 

“They’re purple.” Hajime crosses his arms over his chest, scowling at Tooru. 

“You can barely tell they’re purple. Besides, you said you weren’t wearing _turquoise_ ,” Tooru responds sweetly, all doe eyed and grinning like he’s won the lottery. Which makes Hajime want to sock him in the face. 

“Yeah, yeah, very cute. You know what I meant.” Hajime’s scowl deepens, he should have known better. Of course Tooru would put him in purple pants. Only Hajime can’t tell if he’s done it on purpose or because he actually thought purple was more acceptable than turquoise. He is ninety percent sure it was on purpose though. 

“Ah ah Hajime, I did exactly what you said. I did not give you turquoise pants. How can you expect me to know what you want if you don’t specify?” Tooru scolds, wagging his finger at Hajime and proceeding to actually bat his eyelashes, the picture of innocence. “If purple was also not acceptable, you should have said so. Besides, you were wrong. You look very good in that.” He bites his lip as his gaze travels down Hajime’s body, from the way the shirt Tooru has chosen strains against his chest and highlights his biceps, and shows off his collarbone, to the way the pants shape Hajime’s legs. He can feel a fresh blush rising again and quickly lowers his head so that Hajime won’t see. 

It’s not as terrible as it could have been, Hajime concedes. Tooru could have given him hot pink pants instead. He grimaces and shudders at the thought. Purple is definitely better than hot pink. The pants are a deep purple that maybe you could mistake for blue in the right lighting. If it was a really low lighting anyway. Hajime may be making a bigger deal of it because he _knows_ they’re purple. 

The shirt is normal, just a black shirt, albeit with a lower neck than anything Hajime has ever owned, and perhaps pulled a bit too taught around his chest and shoulders. The consolation is that it’s at least a color Hajime actually wears. He shoves at Tooru and elbows him lightly in the ribs, a teasing smile on his face as he draws it closer to Tooru’s. “You found a loophole in order to get what you wanted. I hope you’re satisfied, because this is the only time you will get to see me wearing anything like this.” 

“No you have to buy that! If you’re not going to then what’s the point of this even?” Tooru’s mouth twists downwards into a pout and he crosses his arms over his chest. His foot taps impatiently as he stares at Hajime. 

“The whole reason we are here is to buy clothes for y _ou.”_ Hajime flicks Tooru in the forehead for emphasis. “As I keep telling you, I have plenty of clothes at home. You however don’t, there’s a difference. You must have realized by now we’re not the same size. And since you’ve insisted on going to university you need to have your own wardrobe. You know, with clothes that actually fit you.” For good measure, he flicks Tooru’s forehead again.

“If you would just let me wear _my_ clothes, we wouldn’t even have to be here right now.” Tooru crows in a triumphant voice, arching his brows. 

Hajime sighs in exasperation. His head pounds dully, still threatening a migraine. For the sheer sake of staving it off longer, he says nothing, just scoops up the accepted pile of clothing and heads to the register. He should have known he was going to lose that argument, Hajime thinks, as he pays for Tooru’s new wardrobe. He also winds up buying several new shirts for himself, in varying shades of green and blue because Tooru twists his arm. 

He fully intends to say no but doesn’t because Tooru is giving him what he is starting to think of as The Look, his mouth all downturned and pouty, eyes pleading with him like a kid begging for a new toy even though they have a room full of toys at home. Hajime has a good idea of when The Look is coming at this point and yet still finds himself caving. It just makes things easier, he tells himself. The sooner he gives in, the less wheedling and whining he has to endure. It has nothing to do with the sunny smiles Tooru sends his way when he knows he’s won. 

There is another reason for giving in to Tooru’s demands. If Hajime appeases him, there’s a chance that the subject he is trying to broach won’t be met with as much refute as Hajime thinks it will. Hajime clears his throat a few times, trying to formulate the statement in the least offensive means possible.

“What do you keep making that noise for?”

Hajime clears his throat a final time, takes a deep breath, and “We really need to get you a phone” comes rushing out of his mouth, the words running together as Hajime trips over his tongue. 

The smile instantly drops off Tooru’s face and he raises an eyebrow, unsure if he has heard Hajime correctly. He halts in his tracks and spins on a dime, so that he faces Hajime. “We need to _what_ now?”

“Tooru you need a phone.” 

“No.” 

It’s funny really, how so small a word can sound so intimidating. The air around them grows colder. The sparkle is gone from Tooru’s eyes and his voice has developed a steely edge. He watches Hajime, waiting for him to shrug it off with a laugh, but instead, Hajime brushes his hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck. He’s serious, Tooru realizes.

Hajime keeps his eyes locked with Tooru’s, bracing himself for what is likely to be a lengthy argument. “Tooru you do.”

“I don’t.” Tooru crosses his arms over his chest defensively, narrowing his eyes to little more than slits. Hajime waits for him to stamp his foot, or worse, throw a full on tantrum. “Isn’t yours more than enough?”

Holding his ground, Hajime stares right back. “If you’re going to start at university, you have to have one. It’ll be far easier for us to get a hold of each other. And also if anything happens…like the other day,” his voice trails off because Tooru is now shrinking away and looking at him all wounded, making Hajime feel like he has just kicked a puppy. “Look, it’s just easier, okay?”

Tooru is fully prepared to argue further, to beat this argument into the ground until Hajime agrees that he does not, in fact, need a phone, but the way Hajime’s shoulders have dropped, the soft and worried edges developing around his eyes causes Tooru to stop. Up until now Hajime has done nothing but look out for his best interests. Tooru trusts Hajime, so if he says Tooru needs a phone, then much as Tooru doesn’t want one he’s probably right. He lowers his eyes and whispers a soft “okay” at the ground. 

Tooru hangs in the doorway of the store to the phone shop, allowing Hajime to talk to the salesperson. They glance over at him a few times and Hajime shrugs before they return to talking. Tooru shuffles his feet and lowers his head, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Hajime calls him over after a few minutes, telling him he has to actually look at the phones so he can pick out one he likes. He’s not really sure what it matters, he doesn’t intend to actually use the thing, he’s only agreed to this to appease Hajime.

The salesperson rattles off a list of features and Tooru zones out, he hasn’t the vaguest clue what any of this means. Next thing he knows, he is being asked his opinion, the salesperson offering him a phone. Confused and completely lost, Tooru turns to Hajime for help, silently pleading with him. He’s the expert here after all. 

“I think we’ll just browse on our own,” Hajime tells the salesperson before steering Tooru away to look at phones. 

If anything, looking at the wide array of phones on display only makes Tooru feel more confused. He tugs on Hajime’s arm. “Why can’t you just pick one out for me? I don’t even know how these things work. Shouldn’t whatever you have be good enough?”

“Just look around, see if anything strikes your fancy.”

No help at all then. Tooru rolls his eyes because honestly how is anything supposed to be appealing to him? But if that’s what Hajime wants him to do, he’ll go through the motions. He makes a big show of examining the phones, acting like he’s actually putting some kind of thought into this. Hajime points something out to him, something fancier than his own phone and Tooru wonders why Hajime would think he would need something that much more extravagant than the phone he has. He agrees though, so that maybe they will finally be able to leave. The longer they spend in this store, the more uncomfortable he grows. 

Apparently actually picking out the phone is not the end of the process. Whatever hope Tooru had that it was flies out the window because it turns out that you also need _accessories_ for the thing. Which turns out to be a whole other process in and of itself. A process that luckily turns out to be not as involved as picking the actual phone itself, so it goes by relatively quickly. Compared to how it could have been, relatively painless, Tooru supposes. 

As he pays for the phone, Hajime is surprised to realize that he has managed to survive the day without tearing any of his hair out, which is a small miracle. A small miracle perhaps, but still a draining experience. Actual setup of the phone can come later, once they are home. The whole day has been wearying and they are both ready to be home. They are weighed down by several multicolored bags which swing between them as they walk. Exhausting though the day has been, it has also been kind of fun, if the smile on Hajime’s face is any indication. 

★★★★★

“You are far too excited about this and you have way too much energy,” Hajime states with exasperation as he pushes Tooru’s head off his shoulder for what feels like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. 

The action does little to nothing to quell Tooru’s enthusiasm. In fact he actually bounces in his seat as he asks Hajime, “But we have school tomorrow, how are you not excited?” 

“I’ve only been going to school for the last fifteen years or so, so forgive me if the novelty has worn off a bit. It’s just another Monday in what has been a long string of Mondays for me.” Making a small noise of disgust, Hajime lowers his eyes back to the page he’s been looking at for several minutes now and rereads the same sentence he’s read at least twenty times. He keeps losing his place and focus because _someone_ feels a need to interrupt him every five seconds. 

In a sense, Hajime can understand where Tooru is coming from, he probably had that same enthusiasm before his first day of school, not that he remembers the feeling anymore. That enthusiasm has long since been stamped out, especially now that he’s so close to the finish line. If you spin it a certain way, you could say he’s excited about going to school, but only because each day that passes is one day closer to never having to go again. 

Not two minutes pass before Hajime feels a familiar weight settling on his shoulder, yet again. “ _Tooru.”_

“I’m not doing anything!” Tooru shrieks defensively as Hajime shoves him away. “Since you won’t tell me what you’re reading, I’m trying to figure it out for myself.” He leans back in his seat, lowering his eyes and staring cooly at Hajime. Trying to look like anything other than the nuisance and utter distraction that he is. 

Refusing to give Tooru the satisfaction of being victorious, Hajime returns the stare with a sigh. “I highly doubt you’d find the inner workings of the glenohumeral joint that interesting. Not exactly the most stimulating material,” he states, maintaining a perfectly impassive expression. 

_"You’re_ reading it,” Tooru points out. He gives a haughty toss of his head, hair feathering over his eyes. 

“Yes and it’s this close to putting me to sleep,” Hajime pinches his thumb and forefinger together. There’s a brief moment of silence in which he is struck with a sudden epiphany. Maybe, just maybe, if he reads out loud from his text book, then Tooru will be so bored he falls asleep. Worth a shot anyways. Between the late hour and the nature of the material, at least one of them is bound to fall asleep. 

Clearing his throat, Hajime returns his attention to the accursed sentence he’s been stuck on. “The glenohumeral joint is a ball and socket joint located between the scapula and humerus…” He pauses and carefully watches Tooru from the corner of his eye, waiting for another interruption. 

Sure enough, hardly five seconds pass before Tooru has a question. “What’s a ball and socket joint?” 

“It’s when the rounded portion of one bone fits into the groove of another bone.” He pauses again, waiting for Tooru to interject with a second question. He actually wouldn't mind that kind of interruption, because explaining the material to Tooru would just be furthering his studying. Instead, he is met with stone silence. Or almost silence. There is a faint scratching sound, and he turns his head sideways to see Tooru furiously sketching something out on a piece of paper. 

With a shrug, Hajime returns his attention to his textbook. If Tooru is bored, then perhaps he will finally be able to finish this chapter. He hesitates before he finds his place on the page again and resumes reading to himself. He reads in silence until Tooru asks him why he stopped reading. Apparently Tooru was listening after all. Hajime sighs and begins to read aloud again, the soft sound of his voice interjected by the occasional question from Tooru and the underlying sound of the pen scratching across the surface of the paper. 

Hajime reads until his eyelids grow heavy and begin to droop, the words on the page blurring. He slams the book shut and stretches, yawning widely. He checks the time on his phone, it’s late, he should have gone to bed over an hour ago. “Tooru, I’m going to bed. You should probably try to do the same.” 

Not that he was expecting one, but Hajime receives no response. Other than the scribbling noise of the pen. If Tooru wants to experience his first day of school all sleep deprived, then that’s on him. Hajime’s done his part. He attempts to sneak a look at Tooru’s drawing, but Tooru pulls the sheet of paper closer to him, obscuring it from Hajime’s view. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

Tooru nods, only looking up briefly when he hears the door to Hajime’s room shut with a click. He lowers his head and returns to his drawing, frowning at it, closing his eyes. He picks the pen up, losing himself in the ink and paper. He sketches feverishly. Slowly, the image on the page becomes recognizable. Broad shoulders hunched forward over a book, eyebrows knit together in concentration, mouth turned down and parted. As Tooru draws, the ghost of a fond smile plays out across his face. He is completely immersed in what he is doing. A dizzying sensation spreads throughout his body, radiating from his heart. The apartment is illuminated by a soft silver light and the hours continue to pass, the silence punctuated by the occasional rustling of the sheets of paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one, people got busy again. I wish there was more exciting stuff going on in this chapter to make up for the delay. 
> 
> As always thank you for taking the time to read!
> 
> you can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit) feel free to come say hi!


	10. Acclimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acclimation (n):  
> the process or result of becoming accustomed to a new climate or to new conditions
> 
> After much anticipation on Tooru's part, he at last dives in to university life, hoping to discover a little bit of what it's like, and to fill the void he fills in Hajime's absence. Hajime feels a little separation anxiety of his own.

Night passes by quickly, gone in the blink of an eye. Gone before Tooru even realizes. As the first slivers of morning light appear in the sky, Tooru comes out of his creative fervor, pen dangling limply from his fingers. He purses his lips and stares at the drawings for a moment before sweeping them off the table and into his bag. 

So much for doing as Hajime suggested and trying to get some sleep. It is probably too late for it now, and admittedly, he’s still not entirely sure what the reasoning behind it is. Besides, today is a big day. Excitement courses through his veins, his limbs quiver from it. _School._

Dialing his excitement back to what he hopes Hajime would deem an acceptable level, Tooru pads across the carpet to Hajime’s room and slowly opens the door, sticking his head in. “Iwa-chan.” He can make out the faint, relaxed sounds of Hajime’s breathing. “Iwa-chan.” He whispers again, a bit louder, before venturing inside. 

Hajime rolls over, burrowing further under the covers. Tooru darts a dubious glance at the phone sitting on the nightstand, currently silent. It will know when Hajime is supposed to wake up. That seems to be one of its functions anyways. He prods at it gently with one finger. The phone pays him no mind, choosing to remain silent. “Sure _now_ you know how to be quiet,” he hisses under his breath, scrutinizing the small, black object warily. When it remains silent still, he settles himself down onto the floor, and waits for Hajime to wake up. 

They remain in silence, Tooru, the phone, and Hajime, still asleep, until at last the alarm goes off. Hajime’s arm reaches out for the phone and he turns it off before placing it back on the nightstand. It appears he has no intention of actually waking though, he remains huddled under the covers. 

“Hajimeeee,” Tooru whines, voice increasing in pitch steadily as he draws the word out. He frowns at the lump hidden under the covers. “I know you’re awake. It’s time for getting up now.” Hajime shifts further away from him and Tooru contemplates taking all the covers away. They are the evident cause of this holdup. If they are no longer an option, Hajime will have to wake up. His fingers grab hold of the bundle of fabrics and he tugs. 

Hajime groans internally before opening his eyes. He will probably never be able to use the snooze function again.

“Morning Iwa-chan!” Tooru practically sings at him, brimming with far more energy than is acceptable for this hour of the day, especially when the day in question is Monday. 

That enthusiasm will be quashed out of him soon enough, though it is far from Hajime’s place to do so. Hajime rubs at his eyes and yawns, squinting at the ball of energy before him. “Did you even attempt to sleep?” 

Tooru shakes his head, hair feathering out from the motion before settling back perfectly into place. He returns to bouncing in his spot, a broad grin spreading over his features. He is jittering like he has just downed an entire pot of coffee. 

“Too excited? Can I get some of that enthusiasm?” Hajime asks as he crams a sock onto his foot. “I’m just ready to be done with it all. Not that you shouldn’t be excited,” he adds hastily. “It’s not all bad, when you don’t have to worry about things like exams. Or projects. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it though.” Forcing a grin, Hajime kicks himself mentally. He ought to filter his thoughts more carefully before he speaks. He shouldn’t let his biases put a damper on Tooru’s experience. Allow him to figure out the highs and lows all on his own. Still, if Tooru thinks this whole experience is just going to be one big field trip, he’s in for quite the awakening. 

As they go about getting ready for the day, Hajime realizes he is slightly anxious. Tooru, nervous in his own right, peppers Hajime with questions as he dresses and readies his bag, looking for affirmation that he has done everything correctly. He at least doesn’t appear to have picked up on Hajime’s sudden apprehension. Hajime is fairly certain that Tooru can pass for a university student, especially one majoring in visual arts, without being questioned. What worries him is if anyone asks Tooru about where he grew up, or how he wound up here in the middle of term. Neither of them have had the insight to give questions like these that might arise any thought at all. And then there’s the fact that Tooru is completely clueless regarding any kind of pop culture or modern technology. As far as certain social cues and understanding of verbal nuances, that’s a whole other story entirely. They should have practiced.

It’s too late for what they should have done now though. For better or for worse, Tooru is about to get thrown into the life of a struggling university student, and for reasons Hajime still can’t fathom, Tooru seems absolutely delighted about this. Hajime finds himself earnestly hoping today goes well for him, that it’s not marred by any blemishes. Perfectly, without any hitches, would be ideal. 

Tooru stands by the door shifting his feet, barely able to contain his excitement any longer. If they stay here much longer, it’s quite possible he may explode before they even leave the apartment. “Iwa-chan let’s go!”

Hajime stuffs a water bottle into his bag, grabbing a second one for Tooru and looks everything over a final time. “Hey Tooru.”

Tooru turns his head, puzzled, mouth dropping open at the sound of his voice. The transformation is gradual, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, nose scrunching and eyes sparkling as soon as he catches sight of Hajime. There is a soft clicking sound as Hajime presses the camera icon on his phone.

“Iwa-chan what was that for?” Tooru cocks his head, lips jutting out into the beginning of a pout, as he eyes the phone in Hajime’s hand. 

“Commemorating your first day of school with a picture. It’s something my parents always did when I was younger. It’s kind of a traditional thing. Thought you might want one.” The photos are somewhere in his parent’s house, the expression on Hajime’s face shifting from a smile to something closer to apathy the older he gets. 

Tooru mouths “oh” before rushing over and grabbing Hajime, practically elbowing him in the face. “Then I need one with Iwa-chan too!”

“I’m not really big on pictures,” Hajime protests but Tooru turns those large pleading eyes on him and all of his resolve melts away. He wraps an arm around Tooru’s shoulders and smiles a tiny smile, as he snaps the photo. 

Tooru’s infectious enthusiasm is apparent even in the still frame, the slight tilt of his head, and the sparkle in his eyes evident even through the fringe of his hair. There is a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks. It’s also the best picture Hajime has seen of himself in a long time, the usual tension he seems to carry is gone, his shoulders are more relaxed, his eyes are not disinterested. Instead, they hold a hint of amusement, and for once, his smile doesn’t look forced. Tooru’s enthusiasm may be rubbing off on him after all. 

Tooru doesn’t pause to take a single breath as they walk to the station, on the bus, and as they cross campus. He hits Hajime with a barrage of last minute questions the entire time, though if it is because he is still nervous, it no longer shows. He’s asking out of genuine curiosity. It’s almost contagious, and if Hajime’s apprehension weren’t increasing, he’d probably be swept up in the current of Tooru’s boundless enthusiasm. 

When they reach the art building Tooru at last falls silent. Hajime shuffles his feet and rubs at the back of his neck, trying to think of what exactly to say before they diverge for the day. There is nothing to worry about, Tooru will be fine. Probably. There it is again, that nagging word that refuses to leave the back recesses of his mind. Tooru is already gathering attention, though he seems completely oblivious to the lingering gazes of the other students, some full of scorn, others almost lustful. Instead, he continues to smile at Hajime in complete elation. Some of the looks he is receiving are enough to make Hajime contemplate ditching his own classes just so he can keep an eye on Tooru. 

“Tetsu!” Tooru exclaims, waving his arms excitedly when he catches sight of the boy with the messy black hair from the other day.

Tetsurou saunters over when he sees Tooru waving, lips curling up in a lazy smile as he approaches. Hajime’s jaw unclenches and his shoulders sink downwards, the tension he didn’t realize he was holding in them dissipating. He lets out a low sigh of relief. Maybe, with Tetsurou around, Tooru will be okay.The three of them stand there in awkward silence, Tooru’s eyes flitting back and forth between Hajime and Tetsurou, who somehow appears to have mastered the art of leaning on air. 

Hajime, feeling like he should have some words of encouragement prepared, wracks his brain to remember what his parents used to tell him before school. He clears his throat. There is no sudden flash of brilliance. Instead he says “Well then, I’m off. I’ll see you later tonight okay?” So much for inspirational words then. Tooru nods at him, uncertain, and there is a slight rise of Tetsurou’s eyebrow, lips curling up just a fraction more.

Hajime shoves his hands into his coat pockets and walks a few yards before turning around and calling out. “Tooru.”

Tooru whips his head back around at the sound of Hajime’s voice, a little bewildered. “Mmm?”

“Have a good first day!” Hajime waves, watching the smile spread across Tooru’s face for a few moments, then nodding as he turns back around. 

There is a pang of separation anxiety as Tooru watches Hajime’s retreating back, the fluid motion of his shoulders until Tetsurou throws an arm around his shoulders, steering him towards the entrance. 

He must notice the hint of worry on Tooru’s face because he tells him, “Don’t worry, time’s gonna just breeze by.” He removes the piece of paper clutched in Tooru’s hand, eyes skimming the print. “Alright, let’s see where exactly you’re headed first. Sculpture, not too bad.” He continues reading and his nose scrunches in disgust. “Oof. Global Art since 1940. That sounds pleasant.” Shrugging, he adds, “Not that my opinion counts for much, since I’m currently taking Advanced Lighting Techniques and loving every minute of it. One of my favorite classes to date.” There is only the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Tooru bites at his lip, but allows himself to follow as Tetsurou leads him to one of the studios. There are a handful of other students already present and they nod at Tetsurou in recognition before casting skeptical glances at Tooru. He stiffens under the scrutiny of their gaze and Tetsurou slaps him on the back, whispering “Remember never show a fellow artist fear, they go for the throat,” before disappearing.

As Tooru tries to process what exactly this statement means, his head tilts, brows knitting together. He turns to call after Tetsurou, but he has already disappeared, the door to the stairwell slowly swinging shut behind him. Tooru lingers in the doorway as other students filter past him, occasionally bumping into him but paying him little mind as they rush to the spots they have long had claim over, setting about their work.

“Oikawa.” The professor beckons at him and Tooru flushes and heads over, wondering how long she has been trying to get his attention. He receives only a few words of instruction as to what his peers are working on before being waved off dismissively. He scours the room, looking for an unclaimed area to work in. Every set of eyes watches him as he passes, just for a brief moment before returning to their work. He’s not worthy of anything more than a moment, certainly not their full attention, just yet. The prickling sensation at the back of his neck lingers long after their eyes look away. 

Tooru enters the stockroom, and grabs a brick of the smooth, grey clay. He returns to his chosen spot and unwraps the clay, wetting his fingers and kneading them into the cool surface to soften it up. An image begins to form in his mind and his fingers move with more purpose, pinching and molding. A crease forms on his forehead as he works, frowning and shaking his head every so often. 

Shoulders hunch forward as he molds, stray wisps of hair occasionally blocking his vision. The studio is silent, save for the occasional sound of slabs of clay hitting the tabletop. Dextrous fingers shape the material into subtle curves, fingertips ghosting across the surface, smoothing it out and removing indentations. He falls into a steady rhythm, lost in the repetitive nature of the process. Mold, smooth, repeat. Slowly, the image from his mind begins to take shape in front of him. 

He startles at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and lifts his head to see the rest of the class has filtered out, save for the girl standing next to him, on the way to put up her own project. Her eyes are full of approval and curiosity. Maybe he’ll be able to pull this off after all. She smiles apologetically at Tooru, picking her piece back up and heading to the storeroom. Tooru scrutinizes his sculpture a final time before gathering his tools and covering the clay. He gingerly places it into a shelf, washes the traces of clay from his hands and checks his phone as he grabs his bag. Nothing from Hajime. Disappointed, he lets out a puff of air and heads up the stairs to his actual class. 

There are more sideways looks as he enters, and while Tooru tries to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, it’s no easy feat when there are only five other individuals in the room. He somehow manages to squeak by with little actual knowledge of the subject matter, for today at least. He does not supply any insights without being asked for his input, and is somehow able to formulate acceptable answers that spur further discussion. He doesn’t think he misses the mark on any of his responses, at least not completely. Still, he’s going to have a lot of catching up to do. He’ll need to form some strong opinions it seems and really have a firm grasp on the subject matter in order to make it through these discussions. 

Checking his phone again, Tooru sees he has some time before he is supposed to be in the painting studio, so he clamors down the stairs, towards Tetsurou’s darkroom. He knocks on the door, there is no response. He tests the handle. Locked. Deciding to wait to see if Tetsurou shows up, he settles himself onto the floor, pulling out the textbook for his Global Art course, flipping the pages every so often. Admonishing the fact that he actually has to read the thing, given his location. There are merits to the act though, he muses. For one, he can actually take the time to enjoy and process what he’s looking at rather than instantly absorbing the information and storing it until he has use of it again. 

A loud ringing echoes through the eerily empty hallway and Tooru stands, closing the book with a hollow thud. There is a crick in his neck and a dull ache in his knees from sitting in one spot for so long. His eyes sweep the corridor, this really is the forgotten realm down here. He tests the door to the darkroom again, and finds it still locked. Perhaps he’ll run into Tetsurou again later. 

Tooru arrives early to the painting studio, no one else is here just yet. He slowly circles the room, inspecting the canvases placed on the easels scattered throughout the room, full of explosions of color. His fingers twitch in excitement. He senses a presence behind him and turns, finding himself looking down at a heavy scowl and stormy eyes. He begins to introduce himself, apologizing. 

“I don’t care who you are, stay away from my things,” the individual growls, shoving Tooru out of the way. It is unclear what exactly Tooru has done to upset him, but it seems ill advised for him to ask so he quietly shuffles off to the back of the room, hanging back as the remaining students in this class filter in, not wanting to make the same mistake twice. 

He is pulled aside by the professor to talk about something called a junior project in hushed tones, and the concern that he will be able to produce enough pieces to put one together. He listens as she explains the project in detail, pursing his lips. It seems he needs to find another student to pair with, and they are expected to put together an exhibition of their works of some sort. A demanding undertaking for sure. Hajime was right yet again, there is far more to this whole university thing than anticipated. Tooru is pretty confident he can pull it off though, he has about five months. The thought that it should be the culmination of three years worth of time instead, does not cross his mind. 

Dismissed by the professor, Tooru gives a wide berth to the scowling individual, settling in front of one of the wide, sprawling windows, angled just so he can view the grounds below. There is a creeping sensation on the back of his neck, more eyes watching him warily, casting him as the outsider. He’s all too familiar with the role, but scorn, unwarranted though it may be, is a welcome change from pity. 

The general use brushes have seen better days, but for now he’ll have to make do. He squeezes paint out of the tube and onto the palette, dipping a brush in thinner before spreading black on the canvas in broad, sweeping strokes. The motion of his arm is confident and smooth, he is barely aware of the presence of the brush at the end of his hand. The sun beats down through the window and he immerses himself in the colors as they accumulate on the stark backdrop of black. 

At the sound of a low whistle, Tooru turns his head, at last noticing the absence of the sun from the sky. His heart flutters, expecting to see Hajime standing behind him. There is a clicking sound and a flare of white light. As the vision returns to his eyes, Tooru discovers the individual in question is Tetsurou, rather than Hajime. “Tetsu, what are you doing here?” 

Not failing to notice the disappointment on Tooru’s face, Tetsurou asks “Expecting someone else?” grinning that lazy smile of his and dropping his camera to his side. “Didn’t want to disturb you, you were so lost in what you were painting,” he says, nodding at the canvas. “I took a few shots, hope you don’t mind. Only just got out of lab myself, thought I’d see if you were still around.”

“I’m flattered you would think me a worthy subject matter, Tetsu,” Tooru replies with a small smile, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You never find people more vulnerable or pure than when they’re doing something they love.” Tetsurou shrugs. “I just try to capture it.” His catlike eyes flicker over to Tooru’s canvas. “You managed to do all that in one day? Careful, don’t want to go burning yourself out trying to prove yourself to everyone else on the first day. And if this is any indication of what you’re capable of, you have nothing to prove.” 

It is Tooru’s turn to shrug as he swivels back towards the canvas. Footsteps echo down the corridor outside. Probably some other student, also returning to cram in more studio time. The footsteps stop just outside of the doorway and the person he has been missing all day peeks in. Tooru’s face lights up and he cries out “Iwa-chan!” rushing towards the door. 

He doesn’t notice the click of the shutter as Tetsurou snaps another picture. 

“Are you still working?” Hajime asks, noting the line of blue paint across Tooru’s left cheek, the stains of red and black at his fingertips. 

Tooru shakes his head, still beaming. “I just have to clean up and then we can go!” He hurries back over to the canvas and grabs the brushes, swishing them through the already cloudy paint thinner, watching as the paint runs off. When he is satisfied they look clean enough, he turns back to Hajime and Tetsurou. “Okay, I’m ready now!” he proclaims brightly. 

“I’ll catch you tomorrow, perhaps,” Tetsurou replies. “Got some film I want to develop, was on my way to my darkroom when I stopped by.” He waves at them and they both watch him as he walks down the hall, vanishing into the stairwell. 

“He’s insane. Starting to develop film at this hour,” Hajime mutters, shaking his head. “So how was your first day?” Listening to Tooru fill in the details as they walk, it seems like he needn’t have worried so much. Truthfully, Hajime considered coming back this way when he had breaks between his classes, wanting to make sure Tooru was okay. A couple of times, he was halfway across campus before he changed his mind. This must be how his parents felt when he left for university. He hated their constant checking in on him, just wanted to be left to his own devices. In the end he decided against it, not wanting to make Tooru think he wasn’t capable of handling himself. 

Hajime feels relieved as Tooru prattles on, the last of the worries he has been holding in all day evaporating. He must only be half paying attention because he startles when Tooru says something about buying art supplies. They’ll have to go over the weekend, Hajime decides. Tooru has already moved on to another subject, some kind of end of the year show he has to put together with another student. His voice is full of excitement as he explains, Hajime interjecting with the occasional question. Hajime keeps his eyes trained slightly upwards as they walk, allowing the cool night air to blow across his face. 

★★★★★

The remainder of the week passes by in a blur of much the same, Tooru slipping into life as a university student, focusing more on what he is creating than the continued whisperings from the other students. While it hurts, he cares less about being accepted by his peers than he does Hajime, who at times, still seems to be coming to terms with living with him. 

Immersion works. By the end of the week, Tooru has several pieces that he is pleased with the beginnings of. The veiled interest of his peers doesn’t escape his attention, and he is secretly pleased. 

The weekend rolls around and Tooru is once again so excited he is barely able to contain it. Hajime is at last going to take him to obtain his own art supplies. No more having to use the battered tools left behind by previous students. It would be a lot easier if either of them knew what exactly they were looking for, but half the fun is in the journey, or however the saying goes. Tooru is armed with a list, but when it comes down to it, these are general suggestions. A lot of the matter is personal preference. 

Tooru stands in the middle of the paint aisle, worrying at his bottom lip. He runs his fingers across the tops of the brushes yet again, feeling for differences in texture and give. He frowns, placing his hands on his hips. Hajime is off to the side, scrolling through his phone as he leans against the cart. Tooru picks up a brush and twirls it between his fingers before placing it back. 

If you had asked him last week, Hajime would have replied that shopping for art supplies is far less complicated than clothes. Oh how foolish he was. He and Tooru have been in the store for well over an hour now, Tooru moving back and forth along the same two foot section for the last fifteen minutes. He occasionally asks Hajime for input, then glares at him, mouth agape when Hajime responds he didn’t even know there were different types of paintbrush. 

Tooru at last, seems satisfied with a choice in brush, grabbing several sizes and dropping them into the cart. As soon as the brushes are in the cart, he hesitates. “I don’t know…” he begins, and Hajime groans, for which Tooru chastises him. “Iwa-chan this is very serious! If I don’t use the correct materials nothing will turn out right!”

“Definitely chose the right major,” Hajime mutters under his breath, hastily turning back to his phone when Tooru glowers at him. 

Tooru saved the last and most difficult choice for last, or so it seems, as they stare at a wall of paint. Not only is brand important here, but also the hue. Tooru’s eyes grow wide with fasication as he surveys all of his options, the impressive array of colors spread out before him. He paces back and forth slowly down the aisle, then squats down to look at colors on the lower shelves. As colors catch his eyes, he places them into the cart. A wide rainbow of colors gets carefully added to the cart, though Tooru still seems dissatisfied. Another fifteen minutes easily pass with Tooru continuing to inspect the paints. Hajime is about ready to tear his hair out by the time Tooru finally decides he has not only enough paint, but also the exact colors he needs. 

Burdened with the shopping bags, they board a bus bound for campus so that Tooru can drop off his bounty. Some of his classmates are floating around, taking advantage of the weekend which means the building is less crowded and they can work on their art without dealing with the time constraints of classes. Heads lift up at the sight of Tooru before turning back to their work, a few heads incline, indicating awareness of his presence, nothing more. Tooru carefully labels his new supplies while Hajime looks on, before neatly arranging them on his designated shelf space. It’s a small thing, but this act has a sense of purpose to it, an indication he has found somewhere he belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tooru is gradually starting to adapt to his life on Earth now. We'll see how things wind up panning out for him. Lucky for him he has the guidance of both Hajime and Tetsurou to help get him through. 
> 
> Excited for the next chapter, which took an unexpected turn from what I had originally planned, so interested to see how you guys like it. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read. 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit)


	11. A Daydream Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru begins to learn the ins and outs of photography with Tetsurou's help. Tooru and Hajime go on a photography outing, and Tooru gains some insight into his feelings from an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You're just a daydream away  
> I wouldn't know what to say if I had you  
> And I'll keep you a daydream away  
> Just watch from a safe place  
> So I never have to lose"
> 
> A Daydream Away, All Time Low

Falling into the routine of life as a university student is easy, Tooru formats his schedule around Hajime’s so he rarely has to be in the apartment by himself. Though the other students are still apprehensive around him, Tooru has earned their attention through a combination of his technical finesse and color usage. On a peripheral level at least. They are all too immersed in their own preparations to pay him too much mind, and Tooru is fine with this. 

He observes them sometimes as well but most often falls into his own work, his hands taking on a mind of their own. There is very little planning or thought involved he has found. Once he sits himself in front of the canvas or clay, his hands spring into action, working feverishly to bring the image in his mind to life. Time just melts away, his mind devoid of thought.

Time between classes or in the early evenings is most often spent in the darkroom, watching Tetsurou develop prints or listening to him bemoan his research and general life choices. Currently Tetsurou is hunched over the enlarger, in the middle of a rant about how he was sent the wrong primers which set him back a week while he waits for the correct ones to arrive. Tooru is on the floor, legs tucked neatly underneath him, doodling idly as he listens.

“Tooru.”

He doesn’t lift his eyes from the paper, instead stays focused on what he’s drawing. “Sorry Tetsu, what were you saying, something about contamination?”

Without turning around, Tetsurou waves a hand at him dismissively. “I’ve moved past that. I was talking about how we’re going to go sacrifice a goat and use it as an offering for success.” He turns so he can catch Tooru’s reaction. 

Tooru’s head snaps up and he shoots Tetsurou a puzzled look. “We are?”

Tetsurou laughs. Loud and sharp, it bounces off the walls, filling the otherwise silent room. “Tooru, your face,” he wheezes, clutching at his stomach between laughs and gasping for air. “I’m sorry, you just look so serious.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “Lucky guess though.” He leans back against the table, his eye that isn’t obscured by his hair trained on 

Tooru, glinting like an ember in the red light. “Why,” he asks, combing his fingers through his hair, “does everything have to go wrong at once?”

“It’s probably punishment for when you told those first years you had spilled flesh eating bacteria in the lab.” Tooru quips in an even tone, returning to his doodles. 

Tetsurou gives a lazy shrug, arching his shoulders and raising his palms up in acquiescence. “You may have a point, but they should have also known that we don’t work with anything that dangerous here. It’s a university and all that.” He pauses, yawning widely and stretching. “You’re being awfully quiet today, what’s going on in that fluffy head of yours?”

Only half listening again, Tooru’s attention is largely on the sketches in front of him. “Sounds good Tetsu,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on the paper, resting the top of the pen against his lips.

“Tooru!”

“What?” He lifts his head back up, eyes widening with desire when he spots the camera Tetsurou is dangling in front of him.

“Thought this might get your attention. You still want to learn, don’t you?” He grins, eyes unreadable as he waits for Tooru’s response. 

Tooru reaches for the camera and his fingers just brush against the strap before Tetsurou pulls it away.

Mocking him, Tetsurou jerks it back further, holding the camera just out of Tooru’s reach. “Ah, ah,” he chides. “Not sure you deserve to borrow this. After all, how do I know I can trust you with it when you won’t even pay attention to me?”

“Tetsu, please, you promised,” Tooru whines, pouting as his fingers reach for the strap again.

“Hmm, I don’t know. If you can’t even focus for a simple conversation, how can I be sure you’re going to take proper care of my camera?” Tetsurou places the camera on the table, the lens jutting over the edge, a tiny pinprick of red light reflected in the glass. 

Tooru lets out an annoyed huff, blowing the hair out of his eyes so he can better engage in his staring match with Tetsurou. Equally stubborn, they stalemate, neither of them looking away. A few seconds pass before Tetsurou plucks the camera back up and it dangles by its strap in front of Tooru’s eyes again.

“You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy,” Tetsurou remarks, squishing Tooru’s cheeks between his fingers. “What are you working on that’s so much more worthy of your attention than I am anyway?”

When he glances down at the page in front of him, Tooru grows embarrassed. He shifts forward trying to cover up the doodles. He has been drawing Hajime without realizing it. Again. Something he’s been doing a lot of lately. 

“Ah, I see,” Tetsurou’s lips quirk upwards yet again, a knowing gleam in his eyes. He does not press the matter though. “Now then,” Tetsurou continues, after several moments of silence elapse. “You’re going to want to get your own camera eventually, if you actually find you enjoy photography. So this is just a loaner. Test it out and see how you feel. I don’t really use this one much anymore, but it’s a good camera. I learned on it, so you should be able to figure it out.”

He hands the camera over to Tooru, who turns it over in his hands, examining the settings and dials. It is surprisingly small and light compared to the camera Tetsurou usually carries with him. Tooru’s fingers hit the switch to the film door and it opens, a vacant space indicating where the film should go. Tetsurou fishes around in the bin sitting next to him, tossing a roll of film over.

“You’re only getting the one. If you shoot more than that, you’re on your own. I’ve taught you everything I know.” He pauses as Tooru gives him a skeptical look. “Okay, we’ve barely scratched the surface of what I know. But the point is this,” he says, banging his fist into his palm for emphasis. “I’ve given you a good start. Go forth into the world and be free. Seriously go, I have to get to the lab.” He gestures at the door, shooing Tooru out.

Toorus slips the camera around his neck where it bounces against his chest as he walks, matching with his heartbeat. The added weight is comforting somehow. He hesitates after exiting the first floor stairwell, debating whether to wander around campus or head to the studio a bit early. The sky outside is a vibrant blue, interrupted by only a few sprawling clouds. He fingers the strap around his neck wistfully, itching to go out and start testing the camera. After much deliberation he opts to head to the pottery studio instead.

Once inside, he carefully removes the camera from around his neck and places it into the padded black case that houses it. He places the case on the floor close to his seat where he can keep an eye on it, then grabs his bust from the shelf. 

He frowns at the vague beginnings of the face before him when he uncovers it, letting out a small noise of disgust. He traces his fingers over the hint of sharply defined cheekbones and contemplates tearing the whole thing apart.

Perhaps he can alter it somehow, turn it into something that less resembles the faces he was surrounded by for so long. He settles himself onto his seat, fingers digging into the clay as he lets his mind wander, swept along by the motion of his fingers. He finds his mind drifting to the same place it always seems to these days, back to Hajime. Tooru closes his eyes and breathes in, feeling a tension he didn’t even know he was carrying ebb from his shoulders, flowing from his fingertips into the clay.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds that the face before him has shifted, molding itself after the image he holds in his heart. It’s not completely evident that the face belongs to Hajime, at least not at first glance. The cheekbones are too high, the eyes too sunken, though the shape and placement of them is his. The jaw line which was thin, has begun to broaden out and become more angular. Yes, there are definitely traces of Hajime in the face now. Tooru brushes his fingers against the cool surface a final time, chewing at his lip.

Probably no one will notice. Certainly not Hajime, who has expressed zero interest in anything art related other than occasionally asking Tooru about his classes. Which is probably more out of an obligation rather than him having actual interest. If Tetsurou ever sees it he might, there doesn’t seem to be much that gets past his eyes or sharp mind. Carefully, Tooru wraps the plastic covering over the clay and deposits the bust back on its spot on the shelf. Tooru decides he’ll mull over it during the weekend, which should give him plenty of time to decide whether he should completely scrap the bust and start over or not.

Once again far more time has bled away than he expected. Night hasn’t fallen quite yet. It is close though, the sky darker than Tooru feels comfortable using the precious film on, even though he is captivated by the last remnants of red. His feet drag through stray fallen leaves, their dry crackling rustling through the air. The late fall breeze ripples through the waves of his hair and turns his cheeks pink from a cold he doesn’t feel.

★★★★★

For his part, Hajime doesn’t seem to realize that Tooru has tailored his schedule around his, often arriving home hours later than Hajime. It doesn’t cross his mind that Tooru might not want to be alone, Hajime instead attributes it to Tooru attempting to cram three and a half years worth of work into a four month period. 

Hajime is seated at the kotatsu, three different textbooks open in front of him. His pen hovers over a page, indicating a sentence he’s read five times now without anything sinking in. Just as he is beginning to wonder what’s keeping Tooru so late, Tooru bursts through the door of the apartment. His hair is windswept and his cheeks are now bright red from the cold, but his eyes are sparkling.

“Iwa-chan guess what?” Tooru flops down on the floor next to Hajime. He rests his head on Hajime’s shoulder, looking up at him. 

Hajime chooses to continue going through his notes rather than paying Tooru any mind. Not fond of being ignored, Tooru begins to nudge at Hajime with his shoulder. Hajime leans closer to his textbooks, angling himself so his back is now turned to Tooru. Tooru nudges him harder, but still Hajime refuses to crack.

“Quit ignoring me! You’re not even studying!” Tooru bumps at Hajime again before draping himself over Hajime’s shoulders, poking at his face, so that he is now impossible to ignore. “Besides, you’re smiling, I can see it,” he chirps. “You should smile more you know, you look much nicer when you do.” Tooru slips back into his spot on the floor before Hajime has the chance to shove him away. He sits back, propping an arm on the table and resting his head in his hand, waiting for Hajime to turn around.

Even without looking Hajime can feel Tooru sulking behind him. “Alright, I give. You’re a menace, you know that?” He turns around, surprised to find Tooru sitting completely still, expression neutral. 

Now that he knows he has Hajime’s attention, Tooru grins, all wide eyed and guileless. He reaches down by his lap and places the camera bag on the table. “Tetsu lent me his camera!” He unzips the bag and pulls out the camera.

Even though this isn’t Tetsurou’s main camera, which is far bulkier, Hajime can tell that it's expensive. He lets out a low whistle, impressed and slightly stunned. “He’s letting you borrow this?”

Tooru nods enthusiastically, hair spilling over his eyes. “He said it’s better to try it out for myself first and see how it goes instead of running out and buying a camera.” Tooru chews on his lower lip, eyes darting back and forth between the camera and Hajime, clearly wanting to say something further. 

“Whatever it is you want to say, go ahead and say it.”

There is a prolonged silence before Tooru takes a deep breath, focusing intently on Hajime. “It’s Friday.” Hajime’s eyebrow arches in response. “I was hoping maybe you could take me somewhere to test it out?” He somehow manages to pull off a hopeful smile and a pout at the same time, fixing Hajime with his most pleading look. 

Under the power of The Pout, Hajime can already feel his defenses and resolve crumbling away. The key here is to not maintain eye focus. He can turn this into a waiting game, make Tooru think he won’t give in to his desire. It almost works, but then Tooru’s lip quivers and Hajime’s mouth decides to go completely off script. “Kyoto isn’t too far from here,” Hajime hears himself saying, which isn’t what he was planning to say at all. Tooru smiles then, that devastatingly bright smile of his, sunshine personified, and the last of Hajime’s resolve slips into the abyss.

“If,” Hajime adds, adopting a sterner tone, “you sit there quietly and allow me to finish going through my notes without bothering me. Understood?” There is a slight incline of Tooru’s head and Hajime returns to his notes, fully expecting to be disturbed again within five minutes or less.

Grabbing the bag and the camera, Tooru sidles away, sprawling out on a bare patch of floor across the room. He fiddles around with the controls, humming to himself. He loads a roll of film, closes the door. 

There is a faint clicking sound.

“Don’t waste all of your film,” Hajime says, not bothering to look at Tooru.

Silence prevails for a few moments and then a barely audible reply. “I’m not. Iwa-chan?” Another pause. “I think I’m going to go get more film.”

Absorbed in his notes, it takes Hajime a few minutes to realize Tooru has even spoken. “We can go in the morning,” Hajime offers, but Tooru is already gone. He moves fast. Hajime shrugs and returns to his notes. Tooru is perfectly capable of going to the shop on his own, he doesn’t need Hajime to hold his hand all the time, yet Hajime can’t shake a nagging feeling that tells him he should have gone as well. He is in the process of standing up and going to follow after Tooru when the door swings open. 

A plastic bag dangles from Tooru’s hand, crammed full of boxes of film. “Just made it!” Tooru beams, shutting the door behind him. “What’s wrong?” Tooru freezes when he sees the look on Hajime’s face. He sweeps a hand through his hair as he slips off his shoes, setting the bag of film on the floor.

He’s not wearing a jacket and Hajime gets ready to chastise him, tell him if he wakes up with a cold in the morning and they can’t go on their photography outing, that’s on him. Then Hajime remembers Tooru doesn’t have to worry about things like getting colds. He shakes his head. Lucky bastard. “Nothing. Think you have enough film there?”

“Should I have bought more?” Worry fills Tooru’s eyes and his fingers fumble with the knob 

again. “Maybe they’re still open.” 

He is halfway out the door before Hajime stops him. Unless Tooru goes completely photo happy, the film should last a very long time. “Tooru, believe me, that is more than enough film. I was kidding.” 

Relief washes over Tooru’s face, shoulders drooping. “Oh, good.” He resumes his position on the floor. More faint clicking noises. “Sarcasm is hard,” he whispers to himself. 

Silence falls, Tooru focuses on the camera, Hajime on his notes. An hour or so passes before Hajime decides to call it a night. Tooru is likely to wake him at some ungodly hour, so he needs to get as much sleep as possible. His knees crack as he stands. “I think I’m going to bed now.” He taps Tooru on top of the head as he passes by. “Don’t stay up all night.” Slight nod. 

Sure enough the following morning Tooru wakes Hajime up just as the sun is beginning to rise. 

Needless to say, Hajime is less than pleased about this. “One of these days you are going to get hit in the face for waking me up so early,” Hajime warns him, causing Tooru to skitter away. He’s not being serious, not really, but Tooru doesn’t need to know that. 

Few other people are up yet, so the bus ride to Mount Kurama is mercifully empty, save for the two of them. Hajime rests his head against the glass of the window and goes back to sleep. Or attempts to. He would be able to if Tooru would stop waking him up every few minutes to point at something out the window. 

Eventually, Tooru becomes so enthralled by the world passing by the windows he forgets about Hajime. The scenery changes from vast cityscape to sparse buildings to lush greenery as the bus rumbles along. 

The bus shudders to a halt near the base of the mountain and the doors swing open. Tooru practically sprints down the steps, already pulling the camera out of its bag. He angles the lens, framing the swaying canopy of red leaves against the bright blue of the sky and presses down on the button. He walks forward a few paces, repeats. Then he turns around and points the camera at Hajime, grinning. 

“You don’t want to waste your film on me,” Hajime tells him, covering his face and pushing the camera away before Tooru can take a picture. Tooru rolls his eyes and lifts the camera again, pressing the shutter button just as Hajime opens his mouth to protest. “That’s going to be one unflattering image, you know.” In response, Tooru sticks out his tongue and saunters off. Hajime grabs a trail guide and follows suit, smacking Tooru atop the head with the sheath of paper. 

The trail is fairly steep, but more concerning are the large tree roots cutting across the path. Hajime picks his way deftly over them, Tooru trailing behind. “Pay attention to where you’re going,” Hajime calls back, bracing a hand against the trunk of a tree as he turns to check on Tooru. 

“I am,” comes the response, even though Tooru is looking through the viewfinder instead of paying attention to the ground in front of him. If he trips over a tree root and sprains something, or worse, breaks Tetsurou’s camera, it will serve him right. 

“We should be coming across the temple soon,” Hajime says as he presses onward, continuing to avoid the roots. The incessant clicking of the shutter is audible behind him. 

Red lanterns line the steps to the temple, which is tucked into the side of the mountain. The red of the lanterns is accented by the orange and red leaves hanging overhead. When he catches a glimpse of the temple, Tooru’s eyes widen with awe. He vaults up the steps in excitement, overtaking Hajime, who stands at the top. 

The air surrounding the temple feels different in a way Tooru can’t quite place, more ancient, more knowing. There’s something there with them, though Tooru can’t determine what exactly. It’s not something that most would notice, unless they’re highly attune with the spiritual world. Hajime doesn’t seem to have picked up on it at all, but Tooru has felt the air growing heavier the closer he gets to the temple. As he places one foot onto the plateau, a tingling sensation creeps across his body, halting him in his tracks. He shudders, trying to determine the source and shake it off. Already, he can feel whatever the source is causing him to grow weary. 

“Alright?” Hajime asks when he sees Tooru falter. 

Tooru flashes Hajime a smile and a thumbs up and moves away, out of Hajime’s sight. He walks along the sides of the temple, stopping at the back end. The air swirls with hesitation before settling around him, crackling and questioning. 

“ _Ancient one, how did you come to be here, so far from home?”_

Tooru leans against the railing, hair fluttering in the light breeze as he observes the glittering sea of crimson, amber, and gold below him. “I fell.”

_"What caused that though? Why leave your place in the sky?”_

The air grows colder as Tooru’s eyes transition from warm copper and caramel to cold, metallic blue. “I don’t know.” The air around him crackles again, apparently dissatisfied with this answer. “Don’t get testy with me just because I can’t answer your question. I told you I don’t know. I didn’t have any say in the matter.” He purses his lips into a thin line, extends his arm over the railing as though trying to touch the leaves. 

_"An intervention from your gods? Something to do with the mortal?”_ _  
__  
_At the mention of Hajime, Tooru’s chest gives a painful squeeze. He continues to focus on the leaves, rippling like ocean waves below as they catch the light of the sun. “So it would appear. I don’t know what it is they want me to do for him though. It’s not like we discussed it beforehand. I just wound up here.” He lets out a frustrated sigh.

_“You care for him.”_

When he doesn’t answer, the air pushes at Tooru, growing impatient. “Of course I do. He took me in, let me live with him. I owe him a great deal.” Whatever this being is, it can see inside Tooru’s heart and he hates that. It is exposing him and whether it is the being’s intent or not, Tooru feels as though he is being mocked. 

_"You cared for him before that.”_

There is a stinging sensation in the corner of his eye, though Tooru pays it no mind. “He’s the only one who showed any interest in me, why shouldn’t I? He made me feel needed.” Made not makes. Because as far as Tooru can tell, Hajime doesn’t need him. His whole life seems to be in order, lined in a neat little path, everything following a well mapped trajectory. Hajime even said that where you get in life is a result of the effort you put forth yourself. He can get wherever it is he’s supposed to be going without Tooru’s help. 

More tears form, shimmering like drops of snow against a cold and vast ocean. He leans further out over the railing, wisps of hair blowing across his eyes. “Surely you understand how much it means to have that single strand of hope when it seems like no one even notices your existence?” His chest constricts further, making it difficult to breathe. 

_“We do.”_

The tears gathering in the corners of his eyes finally spill down onto his cheeks and Tooru’s voice breaks. “Am I not allowed to become attached to him then?”

_“Your heart says otherwise ancient one. You care for him more deeply than that.”_

“And what if I do? Humans have such short lifespans, is it even worth it? Besides, he doesn’t feel the same.” A leaf drifts by and he catches it in his hands, twirling it between his fingers. “I don’t think he ever will,” he adds bitterly, before letting the leaf go, watching as it falls. 

_“Perhaps not, but your heart is in turmoil, ancient one.”_

“Leave me alone.” Tooru rests his head against the railing, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the ache in his chest. His heart gives a few pathetic beats and the air presses against him again. “I said leave me alone.” The breeze wafts across his face a final time and then is gone. Already exhausted by the energies of the temple prior to the conversation, Tooru now feels dizzy and lightheaded. He continues to lean on the railing for support. 

“There you are.” 

At the sound of Hajime’s voice, Tooru startles and hastily wipes his eyes. He quickly throws on a smile and lifts the camera before he turns around. “Iwa-chan were you worried about me?”

As Hajime draws closer, he notices the ring of red around the outside of Tooru’s eyes, it looks like he’s been crying. “Tooru did something happen?”

“No, no. It’s just the mountain air getting to me I think. My eyes are a bit dry. Sorry for worrying you. Shall we continue on?” He gives another halfhearted grin, his shoulder brushing against Hajime’s as he walks past. 

Hajime reaches out and grabs hold of his wrist, whirling him around. “Tooru.” Tooru’s eyes are unfocused and melancholic. They have begun to shift back to brown, though traces of blue remain and he appears pale. “What’s wrong?” 

Tooru can feel the smile begin to falter. “Nothing, I just wasn’t feeling well, but I’m all better now! No need to worry!” Tooru attempts to pull out of Hajime’s grip but Hajime presses down, digging his fingers into his wrist.

A deep crease forms between Hajime’s eyebrows as he studies Tooru’s face carefully. In the span of about ten minutes, something has happened, and he just wishes for once that Tooru would be straightforward with him. “You’re sure?”

“Of course! You worry too much! We have the whole day ahead of us!” Tooru reaches out and pats Hajime on the cheek. Even to himself his smile feels tired and forced.

As if he knows Tooru is faking, Hajime’s frown deepens. “I think we should go home. You got plenty of pictures, we can come back another time. Not like it’s that far for us to come.” 

Tooru protests but Hajime shuts him down, finally agreeing that if he feels well enough once they reach the base of the mountain, they can continue to explore Kyoto for a bit. The trek back down is full of silence, Tooru mulling over his conversation with the spirits while Hajime hangs back, watching over him from behind. 

If anything, Tooru feels even more drained by the time they arrive back at the base of the mountain. Swaying on his feet, he is too weary to protest when Hajime steers him towards the bench and declares they’re taking the next bus home. When he rests his head on Hajime’s shoulder and closes his eyes, Hajime lets him. 

For the duration of the bus ride, Hajime sits as still as possible even though Tooru doesn’t seem to actually be asleep. A few times, he starts to ask Tooru about what happened on the mountain, then thinks better of it, closing his mouth. Tooru appears to have fallen asleep by this time, which makes Hajime feel guilty about waking him. He shakes Tooru’s shoulder gently. 

Head still fuzzy, Tooru yawns, attempting to get his bearings. “Where are we?” 

“Just got back to the station, almost home now. Can you walk?” Hajime extends a hand, helping Tooru up out of his seat and down the steps. 

Once off the bus, Tooru pulls himself away from Hajime. “Yeah... Hajime? I think I’m actually going to head to campus and see if Tetsu is around. I want to see how I did.” He holds up the camera bag with a weak smile.   
  
Hajime’s eyebrows knit together, lips twisting into a frown. “Tooru, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. You need to get some rest, being around all those chemicals will probably just make you feel worse.”

“Mmm. It’s fine. I’m feeling much better now.” Tooru shakes his head, finally clearing the last remnants of fog. “Besides, if anything happens, Tetsu will be there.” 

“Maybe I should come with you?” Hajime asks, still giving Tooru that same worried expression. 

“You worry too much, you’re going to get premature wrinkles. I can manage, I’ll see you at home.” Tooru turns and walks off, making his steps as light and springy as possible to keep up the illusion, though he knows Hajime doesn’t believe him. 

★★★★★

As he waits for Tetsurou to develop the film, Tooru hovers over his shoulder. “How did I do?” 

“Not bad for your first outing,” Tetsurou replies, moving the photo paper from one bin of chemicals to the next. 

“Really?” Unable to contain his astonishment, the word comes out something like a shriek. 

Tetsurou winces as he hangs a photo onto the line, chemicals dripping into the bin underneath. “Yeah, you’ve got a little overexposure on some of these, but the compositions are all solid. You have a good eye, which I already knew. I’m kind of jealous though, I was a disaster for a while when I started learning. Give you enough time and you may wind up at my level.” 

Holding a hand over his chest, Tooru flutters his eyelashes. “Such high praise, Tetsu you flatter me.”

Tetsurou snorts, tugging on a strand of Tooru’s hair. “Don’t let it go to your head. You still have a lot to learn, be glad I’m willing to teach you.”

“Lucky me that you’ve granted me access to such highly sought after knowledge.” 

“Don’t be a smartass. Incredibly lucky, you know how busy my schedule is. Now then.” Tetsurou leans back against the table, a knowing glint in his golden eyes. “I can’t help but notice a good number of these are of Hajime.” The smile that spreads across his face is almost wolf-like. The brightness of his teeth stands out in the otherwise dark room.

Tooru’s heart races and he scrambles for a response. “Variety of subject matter! You told me I should try different things out right? There weren’t any other people around, so in terms of portraits, I was kind of limited.” He gestures wildly with his hands, hoping Tetsurou bites.

Tetsurou’s eyebrows lift and his lip twitches, further exposing his teeth. “I guess I did say that. If you say so. I just thought that maybe.” Understanding of the words he doesn’t say hang in the air as he turns back to the tray. The moments captured in the photos, the softness behind them, to his eyes, indicate a form of longing and affection. But if Tooru doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t press him on the matter. Yet. He does know when to not overstep his bound, and Tooru had shown up looking like he had been through the ringer. “That’s the last of them,” he says, clipping the final photo onto the wire. “Time for you to go home, and for me to further question my life choices.” 

Rather than heading back to the apartment, Tooru continues up the stairs when he and Tetsurou part ways. He needs a distraction. From his thoughts, from the conversation he had earlier today, from Tetsurou’s knowing looks. He mumbles a greeting at the couple of other students in the painting studio, and grabs a blank canvas, placing it on his easel. He thinks for a moment, then decides that for today, the color is blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This officially marks the beginning of my usage of ATL song titles for chapters, and believe me, there will be plenty of that later on, because their songs give me A LOT of IwaOi feels. I have been given approval, so I feel validated. 
> 
> This chapter wound up being a bit longer again. I fully intended on having the latter part of this be *purely* the two of them out doing photography and general lighthearted awkwardness, but then I thought "Wait, surely the kami would recognize Tooru for what he is" and that whole conversation developed from there. Tooru's going to be having another look at his feelings for Hajime in the next chapter as well. Hajime unfortunately isn't quite at that point yet. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> you can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit)

**Author's Note:**

> This all started as a passing thought I had over Tooru being a fallen star. And then I thought some more, and decided to run with it. I'm invested now, and enjoying myself as I write this. I know this is a little bit heavy for the prologue, but I swear it isn't all like this. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> You can find me on twitter [stormysgambit](https://twitter.com/stormysgambit) where I spout off a lot of my IwaOi thoughts and also occasionally rant about what I am doing as I write.


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